Stand-In Rancher Daddy

by Renee Ryan

  What could he have done differently with Ned?

  CJ had known his brother was tipping back the bottle. Every time he tried to talk to him, Ned would promise there wasn’t anything to worry about. He always stopped at one drink. The fact that Ned’s drinking never interfered with his duties on the ranch had been enough for CJ to believe the claim. Until recently.

  Ned’s behavior had become more sporadic in the past two weeks. CJ had been worried enough to confront him. But his brother had refused to admit there was a problem.

  Like father like son.

  Letting out a hiss of frustration, CJ moved to the other side of the horse and resumed grooming the animal. He’d been hoping, even praying, that something would happen to make Ned realize his drinking was getting out of hand.

  Ned must have finally admitted the truth to himself. His solution was to abandon his family. Of all the routes his brother could have taken, CJ had not expected that one.

  Was it his fault Ned left? Had he run off his own brother?

  Whatever the reason, he’d failed Ned. That was irrefutable. Despite evidence to the contrary, CJ worried that the same weak character in his father—and now his brother—lurked inside him, as well. It was one of the reasons he hadn’t tried very hard to find a wife.

  CJ wasn’t convinced he’d make a good husband. He’d recently turned to Edmund McKay with his fears. His friend had asked him a simple question: “You ever tempted to drown your sorrows in a bottle?”

  His response had been immediate. He’d never once felt the urge. Still, he was a Thorn. All Thorn men eventually broke. And CJ had never really been tested. When that day came, would he discover the same lack of character?

  Anna and Sarah deserved a father who would protect them and keep them safe. What did CJ know about raising little girls?

  With more force than necessary, he tossed the brush back on the shelf, then concentrated on picking pebbles and other debris from Scout’s hooves. After he led the horse into his stall and gave him fresh hay, he felt calmer.

  But then Cookie met him at the barn door and wasted no time with pleasantries. “I read the note Ned left.”

  CJ pulled in a tight breath, pounded a fist against his thigh. “I think he really means to stay gone.”

  “This ain’t your fault, CJ.” Cookie placed a hand on his shoulder in a fatherly gesture. “You did all you could.”

  “Did I?”

  “Your brother made his choice. If he doesn’t want to be here, then I say it’s a good thing he left.”

  CJ couldn’t bring himself to agree. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—give up on his brother. Like the prodigal son, Ned could still mend his ways and come home a changed man. For the twins’ sake, CJ prayed that was exactly what occurred. Soon.

  Anna and Sarah had already suffered enough. CJ would do everything in his power to provide a good life for the twins. He would give them a safe, happy home. No sacrifice would be too great. He might have failed Ned. He would not fail the girls.

  He would rise above the Thorn legacy.

  At the bunkhouse, he and Cookie parted ways. CJ washed off the trail dust before entering the main house. Little-girl squeals of delight met his arrival.

  “Pa! Pa, you’re home.”

  The children rushed to greet their father. When they realized it was CJ standing on the threshold instead of Ned, their footsteps ground to a halt.

  Sarah’s face scrunched into a frown. “You’re not Pa.”

  The disappointment in her voice was mirrored in her sister’s downcast expression. CJ’s heart took a quick, extra thump. He’d never felt more inadequate in his life. “Your pa won’t be home tonight.”

  “Will he be back tomorrow?”

  Furious at his brother, CJ forced out a calming breath, placed his hands on his knees, leaned over and gave the girls the truth. “I don’t know.”

  Identical lower lips trembled.

  He swallowed back another wave of anger at Ned. “I was hoping I could eat supper with you two girls.”

  Sarah’s face tightened. Anna angled her head. Then both children gave him a small, tentative smile.

  “Would you like me to eat with you?”

  They nodded slowly, their little minds clearly working furiously behind their clear, rounded eyes.

  They looked so forlorn, so disappointed, CJ’s heart twisted in his chest.

  “Are you going to stay with us in the house tonight?” Anna asked.

  “That’s the plan.”

  Twisting the fabric of her skirt between her fingers, the child drew in a shaky breath. “Okay.”

  Without pause, with one single motion, he lowered himself to his knees and opened his arms. “How about a hug for your Unca Corny?”

  Anna launched herself at him. He caught her against his chest, hugged her close. She smelled of flowers and everything good in this world, and he thought his heart might burst with love.

  Shifting her slightly to his left, he reached for Sarah, who’d been studying him very closely. She hugged him just as fiercely as her sister. Emotion swept through him, convicting him. He would do right by these children. Whatever it takes.

  He set them away from him and searched their precious faces for any sign of distress. It was there, of course, shimmering in their wide, sad eyes, but with the resilience of youth, they chattered over one another in an attempt to tell him about their day.

  How could Ned have walked away from these sweet girls? It boggled the mind.

  “...and then Miss Molly showed us how to make cornhusk dolls.”

  “Did she?” He looked up and found Molly watching him with soft, watery eyes. Her expression was almost wistful.

  He didn’t understand that look. Yet he knew it had something to do with him. His heart pounded against his ribs. His breath clogged in his throat. His mind reeled.

  Her, a whisper in his mind seemed to say. She’s the one for you.

  CJ shoved aside the thought with a hard shake of his head. There’d been a time when he thought Molly had a special affection for him. But her interest had waned right before she’d gone off and married a preacher.

  “All right, girls, give your uncle a chance to catch his breath.” Molly clapped her hands together. “Supper’s ready.”

  She herded the twins toward the table, then paused when CJ didn’t follow. “You are joining us, aren’t you?”

  “A home-cooked meal with three beautiful females? Try to keep me away.”

  They shared a laugh. It felt good to laugh with Molly.

  Despite Ned’s noticeable absence, supper went smoothly. CJ credited the easy atmosphere to Molly’s calming presence.

  When the dishes were clean and order was restored to the kitchen, she said her goodbyes to the girls. “I’ll be back in the morning. We’ll spend the day making clothes for your new dolls.”

  “Will you read to us before you go?”

  She glanced out the window, seemed to consider the question thoughtfully. “For five minutes, but no more.”

  That was CJ’s cue. “I’ll saddle your horse and bring her around to the front of the house.”

  “Thank you.” She gave him one of her sweetest smiles.

  He found himself smiling back.

  He was still smiling as he made the trek to the barn. He located his foreman and asked him to make sure Molly got home safely.

  “You got it, Boss.”

  CJ would have preferred to escort her himself, but he couldn’t leave the twins alone and felt confident sending Duke in his place. By the time he stepped back inside the house, Molly was sitting on the sofa between the girls, reading from a small, worn Bible.

  The three made a cozy scene, the very essence of family. A yearning so deep shot through CJ that for a moment he couldn’t seem to
catch his breath.

  He pulled the door shut behind him, but stayed where he was, watching, hoping, praying for something so far out of reach he couldn’t make the image form in his head.

  “Sadie is saddled and waiting for you outside.”

  Molly shut the Bible and kissed each girl on the head. The twins immediately protested her departure. After another round of hugs, and more promises to return before first light, Molly joined him at the door.

  They walked outside in silence.

  As he helped her into the saddle, CJ felt it again, that powerful wish for something...more. It was the same sensation from this morning. Once again, he pushed it away. Ignored it. Denied it. The process proved far less successful this evening.

  Clearing his throat, he rolled his shoulders, shifted his stance. He couldn’t seem to find his balance. His mind filled with all the tasks that lay ahead. He would have to move a few things into the main house tonight. Then he’d have to get the girls settled in bed. And—

  “Relax, CJ.” Molly leaned over and touched his arm. Everything in him calmed. “You aren’t in this alone. I’ll continue watching the girls for as long as you need me.”

  She’d said nearly the same words this morning. He had no reason to doubt her sincerity, but such a promise wasn’t realistic.

  Ever since Penelope died, CJ had focused on ranching, while letting Ned find his own way through his grief. In the span of a single day, CJ’s entire life had changed. His priorities had shifted dramatically. He must move into the future with only frank honesty between him and Molly. “One day, whether Ned returns or not, you will leave us.”

  She was shaking her head before he finished speaking.

  He pressed on. “One day,” he said with emphasis, to make his point clear, “you’ll marry again, and that’ll be—”

  “I’ll never marry again.”

  CJ pulled back in surprise. He couldn’t remember a time when Molly had looked this fierce, this determined or this sad.

  It was the sadness that led him to say, “You’re still in love with your husband.”

  Surely that explained her refusal to wed another man. There was tremendous honor in that kind of devotion, CJ decided, even as he felt something unpleasant twist in his gut.

  “A part of me will always love George.” Sorrow came and went in her eyes. “But that’s not the reason I won’t ever—”

  She cut off her own words, glanced frantically around, then drew in a sharp breath and started again. “It’s getting late. I better head home.”

  Her voice was even as she spoke, but the pain in her eyes made CJ regret bringing up her husband. At a loss for words, he reached for the horse’s reins and handed them to her. “Good night, Molly.”

  “Good night, CJ.”

  Neither made a move to leave. They didn’t smile, didn’t speak. They simply stared into each other’s eyes. And then they stared some more. One moment stretched into two.

  At last, Molly lowered her eyelashes and the awkward interaction was over. She gave the mare a gentle kick in the ribs and set out toward her family’s ranch.

  Once Duke moved in behind her, CJ closed his eyes and considered all that had happened in the span of a day. He predicted a long, sleepless night ahead, the reason as much because of the woman riding toward the painted horizon as his brother’s shocking departure.

  Chapter Three

  The next two days passed by in a blur for Molly. Ned had not returned. In an attempt to distract the twins from missing their father, she’d kept them busy and on a relatively tight schedule. Her efforts proved successful, mostly. Apart from a few tears and a lot of questions, Anna and Sarah seemed to be taking their new situation in stride.

  That said a lot about CJ and his determination to step into Ned’s shoes.

  Of course, it was early days yet. It was clear CJ wasn’t settling into his new role as a father smoothly. Every morning, when Molly arrived at the Triple-T ranch, he would be waiting for her at the door, looking both harried and vastly relieved to see her.

  His discomfort was to be expected. He was completely out of his element with the girls. However, like any Texas cowboy worthy of the name, he was tackling the challenge head-on. Oh, he was still tentative around the twins and they weren’t exactly comfortable around him, either. Which begged the question, why had he given Molly the day off?

  With an impatient shove, she secured the final pin in her hair and stepped away from the mirror. Dressed and ready for Sunday service, she moved to the window and stared out across the front yard of her family’s ranch. The sun had already risen, splashing golden fingers of light across the pink-tinted sky.

  She should be atop Sadie’s back by now, heading over to the Triple-T to help CJ with the girls. He’d insisted she spend the Sabbath with her own family. No amount of arguing had swayed him. He was one stubborn, thoughtful, kind man.

  Sighing, she placed her palm against the warm glass. She wished CJ would talk to her about Ned. Molly knew he suffered. She often caught the secret pain in his eyes, when he didn’t know she was looking. He clearly blamed himself.

  Even without saying the words aloud, they both knew Ned’s leaving could very well be permanent. Awarding CJ custody of the twins made his intentions clear. Molly had no idea if a hand-scribbled note was the same as a legal document. But Ned’s actions had a feeling of finality to them.

  It had been only three days, she told herself. There was still reason to hope. No matter how sad he appeared on the outside, Ned always pulled himself together enough to attend Sunday worship with his daughters. Maybe he would return today.

  Ned had his faults, but even at the worst of times he’d been a committed churchgoer. Molly hated thinking any man, especially a believing Christian, could abandon his own children, but if Ned stayed gone...

  Lord, please bring him home this morning.

  Molly pushed away from the window and nudged her sister’s shoulder.

  A muffled groan was Daisy’s only response.

  Shaking her head, Molly poked the girl’s shoulder with a bit more force.

  She received yet another feminine groan, followed by a muffled, “Go away.”

  “Mama won’t hold breakfast for you,” she warned.

  More mumbling.

  “Fine. You’re on your own.” Mildly frustrated, yet still loving her sister dearly, Molly left the room with a little more noise than necessary.

  The rest of her family was already seated around the breakfast table. Molly’s three younger brothers alternated between passing platters of food and shoveling impressively large bites into their mouths. Boys.

  It amazed her how much her brothers had grown in the years she’d been married to George. All three were good-looking and had the Carson blond hair. The younger two, Donny and Roy, had their father’s hazel eyes, while Thomas’s were deep brown.

  Smiling fondly at each of them, Molly took her seat beside Roy. At twelve, he was inquisitive and seemed to be always taking things apart. Donny was the talker. Thomas was the calmest and most logical of the three. At fourteen, he was also the most mature.

  As they did nearly every Sunday morning, Roy and Donny debated which one of them would ride old Walker into town and which would have to sit in the bed of the wagon.

  “It’s my turn.” Donny’s voice held more whine than reason.

  Roy begged to differ, loudly, and with equal amounts of whining. The heated discussion continued another fifteen seconds before their father put an end to it.

  “Thomas is the oldest,” he said. “He’ll ride Walker. Now eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

  He pointed to their plates. Once they obeyed his command, he turned toward Molly. “I trust you slept well.”

  “I did, thank you.” Actually, she’d tossed and turned most of
the night. But there was no reason to upset her father.

  Or her mother, who was eyeing her with her usual worried scowl. Keeping her own expression bland, Molly took the platter of cured ham from Roy and concentrated on eating her breakfast.

  Conversation turned to the ice-cream social after service. Apparently, Mercy Green, owner of Mercy’s Café, was supplying the ingredients.

  Laughter soon replaced dissent among her brothers. It was a lovely, boisterous sound that represented the very heart of family. Head down, Molly took a few calming breaths.

  She loved her parents and siblings, and was happy to be home, but she desperately wanted her own family. Despite what she’d said to CJ, she wanted to be a wife again and run her own household.

  George had been a good husband, handsome, kind and dedicated to the Lord. During the first year of their marriage, his devotion to Molly had been above reproach. But the longer she’d gone without conceiving, the more distant he’d become.

  The pressure to bear a child had taken over every part of their life together. Instead of bonding them closer, their mutual frustration had put a wedge between them. With every month that passed, and no baby on the way, Molly’s life had grown a little less happy, a little less joyful.

  Her eyes stung with remembered pain, from the loss of hope and the certainty that she was a failure as a wife. And as a woman.

  “Molly?” Her mother’s hand covered hers. “Are you unwell?”

  “No.” She put on a brave face and slowly lifted her head. “I was just thinking about...George.”

  Helen Carson’s eyes softened. Molly was saved from further questioning when Daisy rushed into the room, her words tumbling out faster than her footsteps.

  “I’m not late.” She hopped to the empty chair at the table with one shoe on her foot, the other dangling in her hand. “I’m merely running a bit behind.”

  “A bit behind?” Releasing her grip on Molly, Helen Carson sat back in her chair and turned her full attention to her other daughter. “Is that what we’re now calling your proclivity to oversleep?”