A Family for the Rancher

by Allison B. Collins

  “I’d have to put the blasted leg on, then take it back off.”

  “Don’t care. I’m not going to enable your drinking.” She stalked away and grabbed her pillow and a blanket, then plunked on the sofa and closed her eyes.

  A minute later she heard a grunt and cracked her eyelids open. Nash had picked up his prosthesis and had hooked it around the leg of the coffee table the tray was sitting on and pulled it toward him. She stuffed her face into the pillow so she wouldn’t laugh at his ingenuity.

  But her humor didn’t last long. He was using alcohol as a crutch. That would have to stop. She just had to find a way to make it happen.

  Chapter Twelve

  The ride back to the ranch was long, and not just because of the debris and ruts caused by the storm. The silence pressed on Nash, and he was ready to explode by the time they drove beneath the sign leading to the ranch.

  Doubts and self-recriminations had assailed him the whole way home. Words tumbled through his head, but he’d never been one for giving speeches of any kind.

  The main house loomed in front of them, and the front door opened. Bunny walked out onto the porch and waved at them with her good arm. He stopped the truck and Kelsey opened her window.

  “You’re home safe! Everything okay?”

  No, ma’am, it isn’t. I slept with your daughter last night. He just nodded.

  “Good. You’re just in time for breakfast.”

  “I’m not really hungry, Mom. I just want to get home and change clothes. Is Maddy with you or at day care?”

  “She’s here with us. Please come inside, both of you.”

  Angus walked up behind Bunny and put his arm around her shoulder. “Nash, y’all come in. Breakfast is ready, and your brothers are here.”

  “Dad—”

  “Come in. Now,” Angus ordered, and led Bunny back into the house, leaving the door open.

  “Well, I guess we better go in,” Nash said, shutting off the engine.

  They got out of the truck and went inside, the noise of the whole family together hitting him like a wall. Maddy sat on Hunter’s lap, giggling as he played patty-cake with her. But as soon as she saw Kelsey and Nash, she scooted down and ran, throwing her chubby little arms around her mother’s legs.

  “How’s my baby girl? I missed you last night!” She picked Maddy up and they sat at the dining table.

  “I missed you, Mommy! But I had fun, too.”

  “You did? What’d you do?”

  “Uncle Kade and Toby played games with me, then we ate popcorn and watched movies!”

  “Uncle Kade?” Nash asked, looking at Kelsey as he sat across from her.

  She shrugged, then passed the platter of bacon to him.

  Angus stood up and cleared his throat, then walked around the table to Bunny’s chair. He put a hand on her shoulder. “Bunny and I wanted you all here today to give you some good news.”

  Bunny beamed up at him, then laid her hand on Kelsey’s arm. “Angus and I are engaged!”

  In an instant, the room went silent.

  “You’re what?” Kelsey croaked. Her eyebrows had climbed up her forehead, and he knew his had to match.

  Maybe he hadn’t heard right.

  “We’re getting married!” Bunny exclaimed.

  Okay, heard it right the first time.

  “But...but...you barely know each other,” Kelsey sputtered, her face pale.

  “What the he—” He glanced at Maddy, then cleared his throat. “What the heck are you two thinking? Kelsey and her family will be moving on before too long.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kelsey’s head whip around. He felt like her eyes were drilling into him. What? Did she think he’d propose with hearts and flowers just because they slept together?

  “Oh, Nash. Now I know Kelsey has been working you hard in therapy, but you’re not ready to run us off just yet, are you?” Bunny asked. “Besides, your father and I are in love.”

  He glanced at his dad, and dang if he didn’t have a look of tenderness on his face.

  “I can’t believe—” An elbow jabbed into his side and he glared at Kade.

  “Hey, Toby. Why don’t you take Maddy out back and show her the new kittens?”

  Maddy squealed.

  Toby popped up out of his chair. “Come on! I’ll race ya!”

  Their feet thudded across the wood floor and through the doorway, then the door slammed behind them.

  His brothers all spoke at once.

  “Enough!” his dad roared. The old man might be well into his sixties, but he was still vital and still head of the family.

  Silence settled over the room, and his dad spread his feet, fisted his hands on his hips. “You boys—”

  Bunny slipped her hand through his dad’s arm and pulled him down beside her. “I know you all have some concerns,” she said, her voice quiet and gentle. “But you should understand. Your father and I have been alone for a long time. We’ve fallen in love and want to spend the rest of our lives together. Haven’t you ever fallen for someone, then wanted more than anything to be with that person?” She glanced directly at him, then at her daughter.

  Nash felt heat creeping up his chest. Did she know? Could she tell?

  Hunter cleared his throat, a smile crossing his face. “Well, I guess congratulations are in order.” He stood and kissed Bunny on the cheek. “Welcome to the family.”

  Each of his brothers followed after him. He glanced up to see his dad scowling at him, which guilted him into pushing his chair back. Just as he started to stand, a cramp in his thigh struck, and he grunted, falling back onto the chair. Waves of nausea rose from his stomach, and he was afraid he’d hurl in front of everyone.

  A chair screeched across the floor, and he slitted his eyes open enough to see Kelsey hurrying around the table. She crouched next to him and started rubbing his thigh. Even though the pain was really intense this time, all he could think about was her tending to him the night before.

  In her robe.

  Naked under her robe.

  He shoved her hand away and stood, grabbing the edge of the table for support. Bracing himself on the table, he hobbled around to Bunny and kissed her cheek. “Best wishes,” he mumbled, then walked with measured steps to the door, ignoring the pain, and ignoring the hard truth that just walking across the floor was a struggle. He wished like hell he could ignore the self-loathing he felt for being only half a man.

  Behind him, he heard Bunny ask, “What happened yesterday? Is Nash all right?”

  He closed the door, cutting off Kelsey’s reply. Another knife-sharp cramp struck him, and he nearly went down. Grabbing the railing, he punched his thigh, over and over. The pain ratcheted through him. Will this ever end?

  “Want a lift home?” Wyatt asked.

  Pride warred with the need to get to his own cabin and be alone. He nodded, and Wyatt lent a shoulder to help him down the steps, then opened the passenger door to Nash’s truck.

  He sank down onto the seat and slammed the door shut, handed the keys over and shut his eyes.

  “Wanna talk?” Wyatt asked.

  “Nope. Don’t want to talk about her.”

  “Her? You mean Kelsey? I was talking about your injury.”

  Crap. He looked out the window and wished he hadn’t opened his mouth.

  “You never said what happened over there. All we know is your unit was ambushed, and you were injured trying to save your team.”

  They pulled up in front of his cabin, and he got out, bracing himself on the truck. Tried to put weight on his leg, only to have the pain again.

  “Would you just wait a damn minute? I’ll help you.” Wyatt slammed his door and came around the side of the truck.

  He let his brother take most of his weight as they walked inside and to the couch. �
�Thanks, bro.” Waiting for Wyatt to leave, he instead heard glasses clinking.

  Wyatt sat down in the chair next to the sofa, plunked a bottle of whiskey and two glasses down on the coffee table.

  “Kinda early, isn’t it?”

  “You turning down a drink?” Wyatt unscrewed the top and poured them each a hefty glass.

  “Hell no.”

  “We could use the excuse of toasting Dad and Bunny.” Wyatt raised his glass in the air, and Nash leaned forward enough to clink his against it.

  “So, you want to talk?”

  What could he say?

  It was his fault seven men had died?

  He could still hear the bomb screaming overhead, taste the acrid mixture of gunpowder and blood.

  Raising his glass, he swallowed the whiskey, relishing the few seconds it drowned out the noise and taste of death.

  * * *

  THE DAY HAD turned chilly, and Kelsey looked up at the heavy clouds gathering above. Back home in Florida, it was warm almost all the way through Thanksgiving, sometimes even Christmas. It couldn’t snow in August, could it? She shivered, wishing she’d brought a jacket with her.

  Pulling a box of food out of the passenger seat, she shut the door and mentally pulled up her big girl panties. Nash would most likely be in a nasty mood. Of course he was always in a bad mood, but pain and anger at his father would make him even testier than usual. But there had been a few times he’d been fun to be around.

  Raising her fist, she knocked, then waited for him to answer. Nothing. She knocked again and glanced behind her to make sure she’d really seen his truck. Maybe he’d fallen asleep?

  Giving it one more shot, she knocked again.

  “Go away,” he hollered from inside.

  Okay, bad mood it was.

  She tried the doorknob, but it was locked. Good thing Kade had given her a spare key when she said she wanted to check on Nash. Inserting the key into the door handle, she unlocked it and shoved the door open, then peered into the dim light of the main room.

  “What do you want?”

  Searching through the gloom, she saw him lying on the couch. “I thought you might be hungry.” She bit her lip. “And I wanted to check on you.”

  “Well, ain’t that neighborly of you.”

  She straightened her shoulders, refusing to let him get to her. “Mrs. Green made some of your favorite foods.” Setting the box on the counter, she lifted a covered container out and set it on the counter. Searching through a couple of drawers, she found the silverware and napkins.

  “Not hungry.”

  She didn’t say anything, just took the cover off the plate and gathered things together, then walked to the couch. The amazing aroma of fried chicken blended with the gravy swamping the mashed potatoes, and her own mouth watered.

  A half-empty bottle of whiskey sat on the coffee table, along with two glasses. She sat down in the chair next to the couch and balanced the plate on her knees.

  “I said I’m not hungry.”

  “Good. Then I guess this plate is mine. I’m not going to let this food go to waste. Not when I’ve heard how good Mrs. Green’s fried chicken is.”

  As she lifted a piece of golden-brown crispy chicken toward her mouth, she heard a low grumble. Then another long grumble. Finally realized it was coming from Nash’s stomach.

  He sat up. “Oh, all right. Give it to me.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing and handed the plate and silverware over to him. Luckily Mrs. Green had packed two containers, so she hurried over to the box on the counter and grabbed the other one, along with another set of silverware. On her way back to the chair, she turned the end table lamp on, and a soft glow chased away some of the darkness.

  Now that she could see him, she noticed dark smudges beneath his eyes and lines of pain bracketing his mouth. She wouldn’t say anything now, wanted him to finish his meal first.

  Again lifting a chicken breast, this time she took a bite, and nearly swooned as the flavors exploded on her tongue. She closed her eyes and savored another bite, then another. Opening her eyes again, she picked up her fork to scoop up mashed potatoes, but stopped when she saw him staring at her, his own fork hovering above his nearly empty plate.

  “What? Do I have chicken grease on my face?”

  “No, you were moaning.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “You moaned like that last—” He stopped talking, then shoveled in the last bites of mashed potatoes.

  Last... Embarrassment flooded her when she realized he’d been talking about last night.

  Which brought back all the pleasure he’d given her. Just remembering the way he’d touched her had her skin burning. Maybe coming here now hadn’t been such a good idea, but she’d been worried about him.

  Finishing her food, she made sure to stifle her moans. She stood, took his plate, then walked into the kitchen. After rinsing the dishes in the sink, she took the pie out of the box.

  “Mrs. Green sent a cherry pie for dessert.”

  “She’s too good to me.”

  “She loves you, and all of your brothers,” she said, walking back to the couch.

  He looked up at her. “Don’t I get some of that pie?”

  “Not till I check your leg.”

  A scowl crossed his face. “You don’t need to.”

  “Yes I do. You were in the most pain I’ve seen you in up to now.” She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “So do you want to go change into shorts, or shall I take your jeans off here?”

  As soon as she said the words, she wanted to yank them back.

  Too late. A sly grin crossed his face, and he leaned back against the pillow and crossed his hands behind his head. “Go ahead, babe.”

  She slitted her eyes. So he was daring her now, was he? Fine.

  Bending over, she reached for his pant leg, then realized she’d never get the denim pulled up far enough.

  He moved his arm, pulling his T-shirt up enough to bare his belt buckle and a hint of steely abs.

  Gritting her teeth, she reached for his buckle, but her hand trembled just a bit. She really hoped he hadn’t seen it.

  Pretend you’re working on a cadaver back in med school. Ignore the heat of his body, the muscles, his skin...

  The rasp of his zipper echoed loudly through the room as she lowered it. She couldn’t help but be turned on. Think cadaver!

  She reached for the waistband of his jeans, and he lifted up so she could pull them down.

  His white briefs couldn’t contain his arousal.

  Oh, have mercy.

  Jerking back, she bumped into the coffee table and lost her balance. He grabbed her arm and kept her from falling, then pulled her down on top of him.

  “Kelsey...” he murmured, then leaned forward and kissed her.

  He licked her lip until she opened to him. She tasted a hint of whiskey on his tongue, and pushed away. “You’ve been drinking.”

  “Only enough to dull the pain.”

  “This isn’t a good idea.”

  “It was last night.”

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  “You don’t mean that,” he whispered, sliding his hand under her shirt to caress her stomach.

  “Yes I do,” she said, and shoved away.

  “He’s dead. You’re alive,” Nash snapped.

  His words were a slap to her face.

  “Have you ever been in love?” she asked, forcing the words out. “Love doesn’t die when a loved one does.”

  He scrubbed a hand across his face. “Do you really think Rob would want you to be alone, and lonely, for the rest of your life?”

  She crossed her arms across her middle, her shoulders hunching up. “You don’t understand.”

  “Then help me understand
. I...I care about you, Kelsey.” He pulled her down to lie on top of him. It helped, not having to face him.

  “It should have been me in that car.” She forced the words out, reliving that horrible night when the police officer came to her door.

  “Why?”

  “I was supposed to go to the store for something, but I had a bad headache and asked Rob to go for me. He left, then never came home.” She sniffled. “How can I move on and be happy when it’s my fault?”

  He didn’t say anything, but his hand brushed through her hair, soothing her. “You know what I think?”

  She shook her head, rubbing against him, listening to his heartbeat, sure and steady.

  “I think we’re two lonely people, still hurting from things that happened beyond our control.”

  Surprised, she sat up and stared at him. “Did you sneak off and see a counselor while I wasn’t looking?”

  He frowned. “Uh, no.”

  “It just sounds very counselorish.”

  “Is that bad?”

  She gave a watery laugh. “No. Sounds like something I would have said.”

  He cupped her cheek and gazed into her eyes, as if he could see inside her soul.

  She knew he wanted to kiss her, and she put her hand over his. “Oh, Nash. You make me feel things I haven’t in a very long time. But you’re my patient—”

  His head dropped back and he huffed out a breath. “And what if I was your friend instead? Would you find some other excuse for us not to be together?”

  She kept silent, battling her feelings on the inside.

  Raising his head again, he caressed her cheek, then brushed a hand up and down her back. He nuzzled her neck, and she shivered.

  “Nash...” she mumbled, reveling in his touch. Every slide of his hand made her tingle, and she wanted him with a ferocity that scared her. She knew he was right. Rob was gone, and she was still young. Her own mother had found someone to love even at her age.

  His hand slid to her waistband and undid the buttons with ease. “You should wear skirts,” he murmured in her ear, eliciting a shock wave through her body. “You’ve got killer legs.”

  She started to back away, but he grabbed her arm. “Don’t.” He tugged, and she moved closer, straddled his legs on the couch. Heat from his legs warmed her bottom, but it was uneven, his left leg feeling much warmer than the right.