He starts the trip a single dad...
Will he find a wife on Mercy Ranch?
Returning home to confront his father about the past, single dad Carson West never expects a reunion with his childhood sweetheart. Kylie Baker thought she was content working at the ranch for wounded warriors...until Carson and his kids arrive. Now the widowed veteran’s yearning for everything she thought she couldn’t have—a lasting love and a forever family.
She knew the truth too late.
Carson and his children would be too easy to love. She had to get away.
“I’m going to town. There’s the...” Think, think. “Stuff. At the...feed store.”
Carson quirked a brow. “Maybe I’ll go with you. The kids and I need some...stuff, too.”
She wanted to protest. But the challenge in his eyes wouldn’t let her.
“I’ll go get ready.”
She turned to leave, but he reached out for her. “Kylie, we really don’t need anything in town.”
She knew that. He’d been teasing, trying to get the best of her. And just for a brief moment she’d hoped he wanted to spend time with her.
She might have been the first girl he kissed, the girl he promised to always love, but, she reminded herself, she wasn’t the woman he married.
She realized her mistake. She’d been thinking of him as that boy she’d loved. He wasn’t. Not anymore.
She had fallen for a memory.
And the memory had turned to hope.
Brenda Minton lives in the Ozarks with her husband, children, cats, dogs and strays. She is a pastor’s wife, Sunday-school teacher, coffee addict and sleep deprived. Not in that order. Her dream to be an author for Harlequin started somewhere in the pages of a romance novel about a young American woman stranded in a Spanish castle. Her dreams came true, and twenty-plus books later, she is an author hoping to inspire young girls to dream.
Books by Brenda Minton
Love Inspired
Mercy Ranch
Reunited with the Rancher
Bluebonnet Springs
Second Chance Rancher
The Rancher’s Christmas Bride
The Rancher’s Secret Child
Martin’s Crossing
A Rancher for Christmas
The Rancher Takes a Bride
The Rancher’s Second Chance
The Rancher’s First Love
Her Rancher Bodyguard
Her Guardian Rancher
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
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REUNITED WITH
THE RANCHER
Brenda Minton
To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified.
—Isaiah 61:3
This book is dedicated to the men and women who proudly serve in our armed forces, and to their families. We value your sacrifice and your bravery. May God richly bless you and keep you in all of your endeavors.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Excerpt from Dry Creek Daddy by Janet Tronstad
Chapter One
Carson West had a plan. He had a plan to walk up to his father, hand him back the letter he’d sent—offering him a job as the physician of a clinic in Hope, Oklahoma—and tell him “Not in this lifetime.” No way would he give up the opportunity he’d been offered in Chicago for a job in a town that had seen better days fifty years ago.
No way would he settle in the town his mother had fled twenty years ago. She had taken her three children and nothing else. They hadn’t even been allowed to pack a suitcase. They hadn’t told friends they were leaving. They’d just gone in the middle of the night, like thieves fleeing the scene of the crime.
It seemed like a lifetime ago, but today he was back and he planned on letting Jack West know how it had felt to lose a father, even one who had randomly yelled, drank until he passed out, or woke them up at night with nightmares no one could sleep through. Because of his two tours in Vietnam, those behaviors hadn’t been in Jack’s control. But letting his family go without ever trying to contact them? Carson did blame him for that.
As he eased his SUV up the drive of the once rundown farm, he noticed several obvious differences. The white farmhouse with faded paint had been remodeled. The garage appeared to now be apartments. A short distance away stood a log home with stone trim and an attached three-car garage.
He’d been thirteen when they left, and it hadn’t been easy leaving this place. His father had been tough, sometimes angry, never predictable, but he’d still been their father. After a while Carson had buried the best of his memories and tried to push this place from his mind.
But after all of these years, had he expected to find it unchanged? Had he expected the old dog Pete to still be sleeping on the front porch? Did he think there would still be the same overgrown lawn, broken-down tractors and aging farm trucks?
Instead of finding the farm he remembered, he saw a place that had become something completely different. Most significantly, there had been a sign at the front of the property welcoming him to Mercy Ranch.
Carson slowed as he drove past the house but kept going, in the direction of the supersized and modern stable that stood where the old barn used to be. He could see people milling about and guessed it would be the best place to find Jack.
He parked, ignoring the curious glances of the men who were pulling sacks of grain from the back of a truck and carrying them inside. He got out and opened the passenger door of the Escalade. His daughter, Maggie, grinned up at him, her blond ringlets sticking to her face where she’d gotten sticky with juice. Almost three years old, she giggled often and jabbered nonstop. Her brown eyes were warm and her nose pert. She looked just like Anna, and each time he realized that, it hurt. Not as much as it had at first, but the pain was definitely still there.
He unbuckled her from the car seat and she held out her arms to him. As he settled her on his left side, she patted his arm and reminded him to get her brother, Andy.
His son Andy would be five in six months and he was Maggie’s complete opposite. With Carson’s dark hair and gray eyes, he was the serious one, quiet, always watching, always thinking. Even now his gaze focused on the window, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed this new place.
Carson pocketed the letter from his father and helped his son out of the SUV. In the arena a couple of horses and riders worked cattle with the late afternoon sun beating down on them. He could hear calves calling for their mamas and a horse whinnying somewhere in the distance. It was the sounds of Carson’s youth, and yet nothing appeared to
be the same since when his mom had taken them away.
Carson beat back his anger. He guessed that sentiment had been on low heat since he’d left Dallas that morning, heading north to Hope. What a ridiculous name for a washed-out resort town with tumbledown buildings, no stoplights and bad memories. Hope. There was no hope here.
The only thing here was the past. And he’d come home to confront it, to confront his father.
Carson, his brother Colt and little sister Daisy were all jacked up because of this place, the man who lived here and the past.
“Hello?” He heard a soft voice from behind him.
“Hi,” Maggie said as she peeked over his shoulder. She patted his arm to get his attention. “Daddy. Look.”
Andy, ever unsure of strangers, had climbed out of the SUV and was holding tight to his leg. Carson did an awkward turn, holding one child in his arms while the other clung to his jeans like they were a lifeline. His gaze dropped to the woman who barely reached his shoulder. Light brown hair lifted in the breeze and drifted across her face.
A Labrador puppy tumbled around her feet, nipping her ankles and pulling at the laces on her shoes.
She was country pretty, with freckles sprinkled across her nose, no makeup, wide hazel eyes and a heart-deep smile.
“Can I help you?” she said in a way that made him want to tell her everything. His secrets. Fears. Dreams. It unsettled him and made him a little angry. With her. That wasn’t logical and he liked logic.
Besides, she belonged here. That automatically put her on the wrong side.
“I’m here to see Jack.”
“He’s in the barn. I can take you.” She started to turn away from him.
“I think I can find him on my own.”
“Of course you can.” She bit down on her lip as she studied him, then turned her attention to his children. A smile tugged the corners of her mouth. “Perhaps I should take them inside while you go find him.”
He looked from the woman to his children. She was a stranger to them. It didn’t matter that she had sun-kissed highlights in her brown hair, and golden hazel eyes that danced with laughter. It didn’t matter that her expression changed as she studied Andy, who was now staring off at the horizon, tapping his fingers against his leg in time to music that couldn’t be heard.
“Thank you for the offer but we’re only here for a few minutes. Long enough to talk to my...to Jack.” As he said it, he caught Andy’s expression as he focused on the puppy.
It had been a long day, and the last few weeks had been difficult with the house selling so quickly and then packing all of their belongings. No, not everything. Packing had been a time of letting go. It hadn’t been easy to give Anna’s stuff to her sisters, to watch as they went through things, smiling and sharing memories. Thirty-two months had passed since her death. It had been time to let go. More than time.
“I’ll walk with you,” the woman at his side said with a slight lift of her chin. “In case you change your mind.”
Change his mind about what? Her help? Or talking to Jack?
He took off his sunglasses and looked at her, trying to decide if he should know her. As they stood there, squared off and unmoving, Andy dropped to his knees and began to pet the puppy. Maggie squirmed to be free. They’d been in the car for hours. A twinge of guilt forced him to take a deep breath. He lowered Maggie to the ground and she giggled as the puppy immediately began to lick her face.
“No, don’t.” He tried to stop the puppy and the little girl. Both ignored him.
“They’re having fun. Maybe give them—and yourself—a minute. I’m sure you’re all about whatever it is you have to say to Jack, but it won’t hurt to count to ten.”
“I’ve been counting to ten for a long time.”
“Carson, I know this is what you think needs to be done. I really do understand.” She said it with compassion and a knowing sadness in her eyes.
And then he realized she had called him by name, acting as if she knew something about his life. “Do we know one another?”
She dimpled at the question. “Well, don’t I feel special? And here I believed it when you told me you would always love me.”
He studied her, trying to picture a younger version of her. He had pushed memories of this town and this ranch to the back of his mind for so many years. He’d blocked bad memories and refused to think of the good ones. And now it seemed there was a memory he should have held on to.
A sharp woof sent Andy scampering back with a startled cry. He grabbed Carson’s legs and held tight as Maggie giggled at the puppy who crouched, his tail wagging. Ever cautious, Andy reached his fingers toward the animal.
“Don’t worry. Skip is a good puppy. He likes to play chase.” The still-nameless woman shifted her attention from him and knelt in front of Andy, grimacing as she did.
Carson glanced from his children to the stable a short distance away. Over the years he’d learned patience. Patience had made him a top surgeon. Patience, and noticing things, noticing people. It was often more about what they didn’t say than what they did.
Today he felt as if his patience might be in short supply.
Next to him the woman struggled to rise to her feet. Without thinking, Carson held out a hand to help her. She hesitated, and he saw the spark of something in her gaze. Not distrust. Pride. He recognized it because he’d been there. For nearly three years he’d been giving that same look to anyone who offered him help. Her hand grasped his and he pulled her to her feet.
He held on to her hand and she looked up. As he held it, his memories took him down back roads to quiet summer days when he was thirteen.
“I want to see Jack and then I’m leaving. I’m not here for a family reunion.”
She wiggled her hand free. “I understand. I just wanted to give your little boy a moment to catch his breath. I’m sure he’s had a long and overwhelming day.”
“He has.” Carson left out the part about his son having a long and overwhelming three years. No, not quite three years. Thirty-two months. It had been thirty-two months since Anna said she had to run to the store. Thirty-two months since he’d been sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for her to come home as sirens sounded in the distance.
Thirty-two months since the knock at the door telling him his pregnant wife had been taken to the hospital after a hit-and-run accident.
He lifted Maggie and she hooked her arms around his neck. Andy remained close to his side, but sneaked an occasional look at the puppy that had plopped to his belly, his chin resting on Andy’s shoes.
The woman standing too close for comfort laughed a little as Andy wiggled his foot and the puppy immediately returned to play mode. Her laughter dragged him down another path. Memories crashed into the present as the breeze kicked up, bringing with it the scent of September rain and a hint of coconut shampoo. Like it or not, today had become a day of reunions.
He remembered. This woman had once been the girl who’d lived just down the road and they’d ridden bikes together. They’d gone swimming in the creek. They’d shared secrets neither had felt comfortable telling anyone else. She’d been Kylie Adams back then. And her hair had been more blond than brown.
She’d become one of the many memories he’d pushed deep down, because forgetting was easier than remembering. Until today. Today he remembered her. He remembered that summer when two kids had discovered something sweet. He’d kissed her. A sweet but clumsy first kiss. And he’d told her someday he’d marry her.
He met her gaze and he saw the twinkle of amusement, because she knew he’d finally remembered. Now he had a second reason for regretting the decision to return to Hope. The last thing he wanted, or needed, were more memories.
“Kylie. It’s been a long time.”
* * *
Kylie had recognized the second Carson remembered her. She’d been waiting for it s
ince the moment he’d taken off his sunglasses and looked at her, unsure, measured, trying to get his bearings.
Twenty years had slipped away as he’d given her that look, confident and unsure all mixed together. She’d had to remind herself he was no longer the boy who’d promised to rescue her. She was no longer the girl from the trailer park who needed rescuing. She had rescued herself and built a new life here, in Oklahoma. In Hope.
He had lost his wife. She had lost her husband. They had that in common. They’d both been widowed too young and too soon.
“I guess it would be pointless to say I didn’t expect to see you here.” He surveyed the homes, the stable, the white vinyl rail fences. “I guess I didn’t expect any of this.”
“I’m sure you didn’t. Things are seldom what we think.”
He sighed, and she felt for him. She knew that he had been blindsided by all of this.
He scrubbed a hand through short, dark hair and glanced toward the pasture, a man trying to get his bearings. He obviously didn’t know that his father had reinvented the ranch. It was a place of new beginnings. A place of mercy.
“Why are you here?” he asked, his tone cool.
“You’ll have to ask your dad. He’s in his office.” She reached but her hand dropped short of touching his arm that held Maggie. “I’m sure this is the last place you want to be. But if you’ll talk to him...”
“I think this was a mistake. I should have kept on driving.”
Carson West rocked that firm foundation just a little.
“Don’t go,” she encouraged, even though she knew it would be better for her if he left. She knew Jack needed this. And Carson did, too, even if he didn’t believe it. “Friend to friend, stay and talk to him.”
He pulled his sunglasses from his pocket and pushed them on. She was struck again by his masculine beauty. She remembered the same reaction from years ago. He’d been thirteen and beautiful with his suntanned skin, smoky gray eyes and slightly longer dark hair. Twenty years later his beauty was more masculine with a strong jawline, cheekbones that were defined and eyes that were more serious than laughing.
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