Cowboy Roped In: Contemporary Western Romance (Wild Creek Cowboys Book 2)

by Mary Leo

  None of it made any sense, and what really didn’t make sense was the invitation he’d given her to come stay on the ranch. He didn’t live on the family ranch anymore. He’d moved out months ago when Reese was going through all that crap with Chuck Starr. Chase had thought about moving back once Reese started building his own place on the ranch, about a mile from the main house, a bigger house that he intended to move Avery and her mom into once he and Avery were married. While it was being built, Reese had moved into a small RV on the site so he could oversee every detail. Nothing was ever going to get by his brother again, of that Chase was certain.

  Once Reese had moved out, Chase began preparation to move back home, then abruptly changed his mind. He liked the solitude of his own place in town. Liked the privacy of it, of being on his own without his mom or his siblings fussing over him like he might break. Plus, it had been time.

  Still, if RuthieAnn was going to stay on the family ranch for a spell, he couldn’t abandon her to his mom and his two brothers, Draven and Hunter. There was no telling what might happen. Besides, Draven was more her age, even though there was no way he could handle a woman like RuthieAnn or her special needs son. Ever since Draven had returned from two tours in Iraq, he was no longer dependable and allowed their mom to coddle him too much. Something bad must have happened to him, but he refused to talk about it. Instead, he simply avoided any conversation that even came close to anything about the Middle East.

  Not that Chase had any intention of getting romantic with RuthieAnn. None whatsoever, at least that was what he kept telling himself.

  “You invited Clark’s daughter, RuthieAnn and her son to come stay on the ranch? Is that what you’re saying?” his mother asked as they stood in her new state of the art kitchen. His sister Shiloh was there as well, helping out with dinner preparations, which was sure to be a feast.

  The very first thing his mom had done right after Reese had paid off all their loans using their new-found wealth was get herself a brand new kitchen, complete with hand-polished granite countertops, all new custom built cabinets, two double ovens, and a subzero refrigerator that seemed bigger than anything Chase had ever seen before. She’d also had the contractor knock out a bedroom wall and incorporate that space into the now spacious and modern kitchen.

  “Yes. I don’t know if she’ll come or not, but I thought I’d give you a head’s up.”

  “RuthieAnn Dolan is here in Wild Creek?” Shiloh asked while she peeled potatoes.

  Shiloh was his only female sibling, lived in her own small house on the ranch, made custom jewelry and spoke fluent Italian from her days in Florence when she studied art. Her jewelry was doing really well in boutique shops across the country, but you wouldn’t know it by looking at Shiloh. She looked like any cowgirl in Arizona who came from ranching: sun-streaked hair, a deeply tanned face, dusty boots, torn jeans, and a slogan T-shirt of some kind. She even wore a rodeo buckle from her days of trick riding when she was in her late teens. Of course, she always wore her own jewelry around her neck, on her wrists and dangling from her ears.

  Shiloh was a woman who knew her own mind and liked to make her own way, no matter what the circumstances. Chase admired that about her, and supposed that trait was what kept them close. He and Shiloh were closer than Chase could ever be with any of his brothers . . . too much competition. Besides, he preferred Shiloh’s company more than he shunned it. They had an easy relationship, without expectations, which was something he could always depend on with his little sister. He felt guilty about avoiding her lately, and didn’t even understand why he’d put some distance between them. Most likely it had to do with his not feeling whole, especially lately.

  “Yes. And she has a young son,” he said.

  “And you physically saw her?” his mom asked, clad in a white apron over her shirt and jeans. Her hair clipped back.

  “Yes. Today at Clark’s.”

  “You saw RuthieAnn at her dad’s house?” Shiloh asked, looking as if that information was impossible.

  “Yes, but why is that so shocking?” Chase wanted to know. He didn’t understand all the fuss.

  “Because after RuthieAnn left, Clark never heard from her again. She kept in touch with her brother, but even with that, there were long stretches of time when Clark didn’t know if she was even still alive.”

  Chase could understand not wanting to have contact with Clark. He wasn’t a very good dad, even to his son, who couldn’t seem to get out of there fast enough once eighteen started to close in on him. Still, the way his mom and sister talked about her, RuthieAnn sounded cold and harsh. She certainly hadn’t come off that way when he’d met her that afternoon. He actually thought just the opposite. That she was warm and friendly . . . and beautiful.

  “Did you guys know that Clark’s in the hospital, and according to RuthieAnn, he’s in pretty bad shape?”

  “Yes,” Shiloh said while his mom nodded in agreement. She opened an oven door and with both her hands hidden in mitts, pulled a pie out of the oven and placed it on a metal rack to cool. The lattice top crust barely hid what had to be tart apples. During the fall months, his mom probably baked an apple pie every day.

  “And neither of you thought to tell me?”

  Chase could hardly believe neither of them had taken the time to tell him. They both knew that Clark meant a lot to him, despite his ornery ways.

  “You’re never around anymore,” his mom said, sounding almost bitter.

  “My phone still works.”

  “We wouldn’t know,” Shiloh said. Their mom nodded her agreement.

  “I call you. I call you both,” Chase argued, but he knew it wasn’t very often. Lately, he’d withdrawn into himself and he seemed to like it that way.

  “Not enough, and when I call or text you, it takes hours and sometimes an entire day for you to reply,” his mom added as she slipped two berry pies into the oven. She made the absolute best mixed-berry pie he’d ever tasted, and just seeing that pie go into the oven made his mouth water. He was glad he’d be stopping by for dinner that night.

  “I have a lot going on,” he said, knowing that was a complete lie. Aside from his ride each morning, and grooming Midnight Shadow, he didn’t have anything going on. His life had truly taken a turn for the worse ever since this family became wealthy. Suddenly he had no goal, no purpose other than keeping his body functioning, and he sure as hell wasn’t doing a very good job of it.

  “We all do, but there’s always time for family,” his sister countered, sounding as if she understood his withdrawal but wasn’t willing to accept it.

  Chase let out a breath, knowing full well she was right. For the last six months or so, he’d been more or less hiding from everyone in his family. At first, he was just angry at everyone, his mom included. Then when he began to realize that his body was starting to betray him, he purposely stayed away, not wanting to tell anyone until he knew for sure exactly what was going on. He still didn’t know. He preferred to avoid seeing his doctor. Truth was, he didn’t know if he could take any more bad news after he’d worked so hard to function again.

  “You’re right, and I promise to be better at making the time. But speaking of time, dinner is only a few hours away, and you still haven’t told me if it’s okay for RuthieAnn and her boy to stay for a while.”

  “Oh for heaven’s sake, of course it’s okay,” his mom said. “They can move in if that’s what they want to do. But I would’ve liked more than a head’s up. I have to prepare a room for them. I suppose they can take your old room or Reese’s.”

  “Don’t get too carried away, Mom. I don’t know for certain that she’ll show. I invited them to dinner tonight as well.”

  “Dinner I can handle. There’s always plenty of food. But let me at least get some clean sheets on the bed. Jayden must be about five now. I suppose they can sleep together in the same bed. Both rooms have big enough beds.”

  His mom caught him by surprise. He hadn’t mentioned RuthieAnn’s son’
s name. “How’d you know her son’s name and his age?”

  “She’s Clark’s girl. Why wouldn’t I know the details?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “She’s a lot younger than you,” Shiloh said. “I put her at around twenty-three or twenty-four. No reason for you to know anything about her. Traveled in much different circles than somebody your age.”

  “She already reminded me about our age difference.”

  “Now why would she do that?” Shiloh asked, as she blew a thick strand of hair off her forehead.

  “Because Chase is a good looking man, and maybe she’s thinking about a new daddy for her son,” their mom teased. “She and her boy certainly could use someone as dependable as you.”

  Chase balked at the very idea. “Mom, I’m in no shape to be anyone’s husband and I’m certainly not ready to be that boy’s father. Besides, I’m sure I could never take the place of Jayden’s real dad, and I wouldn’t want to.”

  “Did she mention Jayden’s dad?” Shiloh asked as she chopped the potatoes she’d peeled and then dropped them into a pot filled with water. “Did she say if she’s still with him? Although, I doubt she is. He would never have allowed her to return to Wild Creek, no matter what her reason.”

  “She said she isn’t married and never was. I got the impression she and her boy are on their own. Why? Who is he?”

  “Good for RuthieAnn,” his mom said. Then she walked over to Chase, and stared up into his eyes. “We were never sure, son. But he just might be the man who hit you and left you to die on the side of the road.”

  RUTHIEANN HAD left her son with the only friend she’d ever had in Wild Creek, Pearl Gentry, mother to three healthy, rambunctious children, with one more on the way. Her husband, Tyler, now the county sheriff, had once worked for Chuck Starr as a mechanic on his ranch. RuthieAnn hadn’t told her about meeting up with Chase, knowing full well there was a lot of bad blood between the Coopers and Chuck Starr. That feud had been going on ever since RuthieAnn could remember, and she didn’t want to step in the middle of that mess, no matter which side Pearl’s husband might be now on.

  Pearl had offered to take Jayden whenever RuthieAnn wanted to visit her dad. That was more than kind. Talking about the politics of Wild Creek was not something either woman had time to get into. It was enough that they had remained friends. Pearl had one of those understanding hearts, and for that, RuthieAnn would be eternally grateful.

  Now, as RuthieAnn stood in front of her dad’s hospital room door, ratcheting up her courage to walk inside, she didn’t know what to expect. Pearl had warned her of his surely mental state, but that wasn’t a big surprise. The man had been surly for as long as RuthieAnn could remember. How he would react to seeing her was the only thing on her mind at the moment.

  “He’s fairly weak physically, but he’s awake and alert, that’s for sure,” his nurse said. For the time being, she seemed to be stationed right outside his room, working on a computer that was perched on a mobile stand.

  Her dad was in the ICU, in a private room, and the prognosis wasn’t very good. Those forty-eight hours that he had this morning, had dwindled to “we’re doing everything we can to keep him comfortable and stable.”

  RuthieAnn took a deep breath and crept inside his room.

  The look on his face when he realized who she was scared her. “What the hell do you want?” he managed to spit out in that gravelly voice of his. Even though her dad was next to death, it hadn’t changed his biting disposition. “Come to see your old man die, did you? Or maybe you came back to help it along. Well, you’re too late. I already did all that I could. Unless you want to shove a pillow over my face, you’ll have to wait a few more days.”

  And there it was. That Clark Dolan love she’d grown up with. It amazed her, seeing him again, how she had learned to function in society at all. How she’d managed to pull herself together in order to give herself and her son any kind of decent life.

  “Nice to see you, too, Dad.”

  He coughed with that same raspy cough she remembered, but he could hardly muster enough effort to really clear his own throat.

  “What the hell do you want from me? Why are you here?”

  “I’m your daughter, and you’re sick. I came to see you. That’s all.”

  “To ease your guilt?”

  “I don’t have any guilt, Dad.”

  A nasty smirk crossed his face. “No. I bet you don’t. Left me with nothing. Never sent me a dime while you were gone. Not even something for your brother. I thought you were dead.”

  “That’s a lie, Dad. I sent money to Kevin all the time.”

  He attempted a laugh, but then started coughing again, continuing until he settled with a deep labored breath. “That little bastard never said a word about it. Kept it all for himself. And where the hell is Kevin? Shouldn’t he be here, too? Doesn’t he want to see his old man croak? Kids. I told your mother to get rid of both of you before you were born, but she wouldn’t listen. Said she always wanted kids, and look what happened. Two kids that never cared one lick about her or me.”

  Her dad knew how to go right for the jugular. She didn’t know if any of what he’d said about wanting her mom to abort his kids, but it sure was a blow to the gut to hear it.

  “You know both Kevin and I care about you or why else would I be here?”

  Her younger brother, Kevin, had up and left town two days before his eighteenth birthday and had no intention of ever returning, no matter what happened to their dad . . . or so he said. He was living with an older cousin in San Diego, holding down a twenty-hour a week job while attending his first year of college.

  RuthieAnn was proud of her little brother, but that didn’t make her task any easier.

  “I don’t know. Maybe that shit of a guy you married kicked you out.”

  She realized her brother had never told their dad anything about RuthieAnn’s life, and at that moment she appreciated her brother’s loyalty more than she could put into words.

  “Gary was never my husband. We never married.” Just saying it out loud boosted her resolve. She had been an emotional mess when she’d grabbed onto Gary, or Lucky as he liked to be called, but at least she’d always had enough sense not to marry him.

  “Why not? Wasn’t he good enough for you?”

  “No, he wasn’t. But you always knew that.”

  That had been the one thing her dad had been right about. Apparently, her dad could recognize evil when he saw it and had taken the time to warn his only daughter. She’d always been grateful for that much.

  “And did you listen to me?”

  “No. I was young and full of myself. I thought I knew better.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I realize I deserve better. Much better.”

  She’d actually grasped that fact a long time ago, but she couldn’t always hold onto that thought. Jayden had helped with her self-worth issues. Most everything she did was for her son. She honestly didn’t know if she would have come this far if it hadn’t been for Jayden.

  “You’re just like your mother. She said the same thing and look where it got her. Face down in the dirt, frozen. Be careful or you might end up just like her.”

  Her mother was an abusive alcoholic with an acerbic tongue and a penchant for sleeping with just about any man who looked her way. She’d died walking out of Around The Bend tavern when RuthieAnn was fifteen years old. According to witnesses, she’d been drinking inside the tavern for six hours straight, and when she finally left, she could barely walk. Friends had tried to stop her from leaving on her own, but her mom wouldn’t hear of it.

  The weather had been especially cold that night, and she’d slipped on a patch of ice in front of her pickup truck and hit her head. Her tormented life ended right there in front of her favorite hangout. Nobody even found her until the next day when Sweet Sally, the owner, came in to open up for the lunch crowd.

  If the fall hadn’t killed her mom, the freezing temperatures
would have. She was a “human Popsicle” according to the report Sweet Sally gave to the police. RuthieAnn never forgot that image of her mom, and never forgot the moment when her dad gave her the news—she hadn’t even cried. Instead, she’d packed up a couple of suitcases for herself and her little brother and moved in with their dad, leaving everything that even remotely reminded her of her mom behind.

  After that, RuthieAnn’s life took a definite turn for the worse . . . until Jayden was born when she was only eighteen years old. That single event changed everything.

  “Sounds as if you expect the same ending for me.”

  “It would serve you right for deserting your brother and me.”

  Leaving her dad, that house, this town, had been her only choice back then. If she had stayed, she probably wouldn’t be alive. A sober thought, but one that she’d come to terms with years ago. “I did what I thought was right at the time.”

  “And what about since then?”

  “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

  He started coughing again. “A lot of . . . good . . . it does . . . me now.”

  His coughing got worse until a machine started beeping and his nurse came in.

  “Steady coughs, Mr. Dolan. Try to remain calm,” she told him, but her dad couldn’t catch his breath. Another nurse came in, a man this time, and RuthieAnn knew it was time she stepped out in the hall to let them work.

  She was shaking now. Not so much from his coughing attack that could end his life, but from everything he’d said. It had caused her childhood to come rushing back. All the raw emotions were still there, just below the surface, waiting to jump up and attack her ego once again. He hadn’t changed. Not that she believed he would. Still, she thought he might be more reflective, more introspective . . . after all, didn’t people finally come clean on their deathbeds? Ask for forgiveness from the people they’d crossed?

  She should have known better than to expect any of that from her dad, and she hadn’t, at least not consciously. But, from her reaction, she knew that secretly she’d hoped for a bit of change from him. Some sort of recognition that he’d been a horrible father, and an even worse husband.