To Trust a Rancher

by Debbi Rawlins

  Straightening her spine, Becca slowly withdrew her hand. She clasped it with her other one. “I’ve told you the truth. I can’t help it if you choose not to believe me.”

  “Fair enough. But now I’ve got another problem. Going by what you just told me, I have to believe you know exactly where Amy is, you know what kind of trouble she’s in, and yet you left her behind to fend for herself.”

  Becca’s faint smile was tinged with bitterness. “You obviously don’t know your sister very well.”

  “How could I? She was still a kid when you dragged her to LA.”

  The smile vanished. Her eyes filled with disbelief as her lips parted. He could see her mind working. She’d probably tell him to go to hell, which wouldn’t be entirely undeserved—Amy had always been headstrong. But he knew Amy hadn’t been keen on going to LA because she’d told him so. She’d gone for Becca’s sake.

  After several moments of charged silence, Becca pushed back in her chair and stood. “Well, I believe we’ve said all there is to say, so if you’ll excuse me...we have a full day planned.”

  “You haven’t answered me.”

  “Oh, was there a question in there?” She hadn’t bothered to keep her voice down. Apparently she’d rather wake her son than have to finish their conversation. “It sounded more like an accusation.”

  Her expression startled him.

  She wasn’t just angry. Becca looked hurt. Hell, what did she expect? She had a lot of nerve to show up and pretend she didn’t have news of Amy. Then to admit she’d deserted his sister. He saw her hand tremble slightly. No. No way. He wouldn’t feel sorry for her.

  He thought back to yesterday at the Food Mart. The way his mom had fawned over her had pissed him off. The memory put him to rights. If Becca was upset, it was her own doing.

  “Look,” he said, “how about we call a truce?”

  “I have no quarrel with you. Anyway, I doubt we’ll run into each other again.”

  He bit back a curse. “You promised to call my mom.”

  “And I will.” She walked past him, waving a hand as if she were dismissing him.

  Ryder caught her wrist. “Don’t wake the boy yet. We need to settle this first.” He moved his thumb against her inner wrist. So soft.

  She glared at him. “Let me go.”

  He released her and cleared his throat. “Look, I’m asking you on behalf of my mother.”

  “Did she send you?”

  “She doesn’t know I’m here, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

  “I won’t say anything.” Becca absently rubbed her wrist.

  His grip hadn’t been tight enough to hurt her. Was she trying to play him? Good luck. He’d run low on sympathy long before today. Unfortunately, he could tell she wasn’t going to accept his mom’s invitation.

  “Come on, be smart. Staying at the Sundowner means you’d save some money.” Unlike Becca, he continued to keep his voice low. “And Noah would have lots of space and plenty to occupy him. Don’t let how we feel about each other influence your decision. You’d hardly see me.”

  Her brows rose. “How we feel about each other? I hadn’t given you a single thought before yesterday.”

  “If I recall, neither of us were exactly overjoyed.”

  “Oh.” She blushed and looked away. “Right. Anyway, moot point.”

  Ryder wondered about the sudden awkwardness, then remembered Amy teasing him about Becca having a crush on him. But that had been kid stuff, at least ten years ago. Something else was bothering her.

  She stood beside the bed where Noah was curled up, gazing down at her son with so much heart it stopped him in his tracks. Whatever her faults, she certainly loved that child. With no husband in the picture and living in an expensive city like LA? Maybe the kid’s father helped out some, but Ryder had the feeling that wasn’t the case. Either way, he gave her credit.

  “Wait,” he said when she was about to wake the boy. She was a mother. He knew how to appeal to her. “I doubt Amy told you. She might not even know since her calls had dropped off, but my mom had a stroke.”

  “Oh, no. When?”

  “A couple years ago.”

  “I wondered about the cane. I’m really sorry. Despite...everything, I’ve always liked your mom. A lot. Your father, too. They were both nice to me.” She winced. “Even after my mom left and I wasn’t at my best.”

  Ryder laughed. “That’s one way of putting it.”

  “Hey, I could’ve been worse.”

  Noah stirred.

  Ryder hurried on. “After seeing you and Noah yesterday, she was the happiest I’ve seen her in years. As soon as we got home, she started freshening up the guest rooms and writing out meal plans...”

  Becca briefly nibbled at her lower lip, eyeing him suspiciously. “Playing dirty, are we?”

  “Just telling it like it is.”

  She hesitated, then turned back to her son. “Noah? Time to wake up, sleepyhead.”

  Ryder sighed. So she was willing to use the kid to avoid answering? Fine.

  Noah jerked his head up with a start. He blinked, looked around, but didn’t see Becca behind him. He rubbed both eyes with small fists and immediately started to cry.

  “Hey, Mr. Cranky Pants...” Placing a hand on his shoulder, she sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m right here.”

  Those weren’t crocodile tears. He looked genuinely afraid until he turned and buried his face against his mom’s chest. She held him close and stroked his back. “It’s okay, sweetie. We’re in the motel with the elevator you like to ride, remember?”

  Her voice was soft and soothing as she rocked the boy back and forth. Watching and listening to her, even Ryder felt as if he was being drawn into her spell. Her brown hair fell in waves just past her shoulders, the sunlight coming through the window picking up the coppery highlights she’d hated as a kid. Easy to forget the gawky teenager he’d known had become this very attractive woman.

  The boy’s sobs slowly turned to hiccups. Then a few sniffles as Becca dried his cheeks with her thumb and the sleeve of her sweatshirt. She gave him a tender smile. “Everything okay?”

  Her son nodded.

  “Hey, Noah,” Ryder said quietly. “Remember me?”

  The boy looked at him and nodded again.

  Becca’s fierce frown might’ve made a lesser man back off.

  Ryder briefly met her gaze, then asked Noah, “Did your mom tell you about all the horses we have at our ranch?”

  The boy’s eyes rounded. “Real ones?”

  “You bet.”

  “Do you have white horses?”

  “Yep. My favorite is Jethro. He has a big bushy mane and tail.”

  Noah wrinkled his nose. “What’s a mane?”

  Ryder turned all the way around in his chair. He didn’t have to look at Becca to know she was shooting daggers. “You know all that stuff on their neck and back that kind of looks like hair?” he asked, and Noah nodded vigorously. “That’s called a mane.”

  “Do you have other color horses?”

  “We do. Brown, black, spotted. Big horses, small ones. And you know what?”

  The boy’s eyes glowed with excitement. “What?”

  “You and your mom might be staying with us at the ranch, so you’ll get to see all the horses you want.”

  “Mommy?” He turned to Becca. She quickly produced a smile. “Can we, Mommy?”

  Watching as she swept Noah’s hair away from his eyes, Ryder studied her. He’d figured she’d be pissed at him, not that he would blame her. Using the kid was a sneaky way to hedge his bet. But for a minute, she’d looked upset. More like panicked. What the hell was that about?

  “I think we can work in a short visit later,” she said finally.

  “But Ryder said we can stay there.”

  “You
know what, sweetie? I want you to call him Mr. Mitchell, okay? He’s a grown-up.” She sent him a quick glare and muttered, “Even when he doesn’t act like one.”

  Noah frowned. “Can I call him Uncle Ryder? Like how I call Aunt Amy?”

  The color seemed to drain from Becca’s face. Her lips parted, but nothing came out.

  “I like the sound of that,” Ryder said. “Call me Uncle Ryder.”

  Noah grinned. “I want to see all the horses,” he said and jumped off the bed.

  Becca caught the back of his shirt. “Wait a minute. Go brush your teeth.”

  “I did already.”

  “Not after you ate breakfast.”

  “Okay,” Noah drawled and plodded toward the bathroom. A few seconds later, Ryder heard the water running.

  His gaze stayed on Becca, who hadn’t quite recovered since her son had mentioned Amy. Distrust rose inside of him until he could almost taste it.

  “Is there something you want to tell me?” he asked, keeping his voice low and even.

  She glanced toward the open bathroom door. The water from the sink was running while Noah hummed. “You’re a bastard.”

  Ryder just smiled—despite the fact he was still bothered by her earlier reaction. And something else that troubled him... He’d noticed she wasn’t wearing a bra.

  Chapter Six

  The gravel road that led to the Sundowner Ranch loomed ten yards ahead. Becca could have found it in her sleep. Gripping the steering wheel with one hand, she dragged the other clammy palm down her jeans.

  It didn’t matter how many times she’d told herself this was the perfect opportunity to see the Mitchells with fresh eyes. If it wasn’t for Noah, buckled up in his car seat in the back of her old compact, she would’ve given in to the urge to keep on driving instead of making the turn.

  “Real horses, Mommy. Do you think they have a pony like at the park? You said I could ride one when I was bigger, and I’m a lot bigger than when I was three.”

  “I don’t know about ponies, Noah, but you can ask Mr. Mitchell if they have any foals.”

  “You mean Uncle Ryder?”

  Grimacing, Becca bit down hard and caught the edge of her lip. “Yes,” she said, telling herself it was fine. Calling him Uncle meant nothing. Just as long as she didn’t make a big deal out of it.

  “What’s a foal?”

  “A baby horse.” When the tires hit gravel, her foot eased off the pedal as her heart rate jumped. She knew this road far too well. She’d walked from her grandparents’ house many times when she was a kid, whatever the weather. Well, not when it stormed, but she’d had a great big red bubble coat that Grandpa had said made her look like the Marshmallow Man with a sunburn.

  And when it was autumn, like now, she and Amy would go off the road and shuffle through the colored leaves, kicking and talking and making plans for when they were older.

  None of those plans had come true.

  Then when she was twelve, Ryder had taught her to ride, and like a big dope, she’d developed a crush on him. She’d spent hours fantasizing about how he’d be a good husband and daddy, unlike her own father, who’d always put his army career first. She and Ryder would live in a house right between her grandparents and the Mitchells, ranching and riding horses all day long. He’d been nineteen at the time. She wondered if he’d known about her crush and had laughed at her behind her back.

  “Mommy?”

  “Yes, sweetie?”

  “Did the car break?”

  She’d stopped, her thoughts stalled on a life she’d never have. And heaven knew, she’d never once imagined Ryder hating her. Even though she’d hated him for so many years.

  Even now, knowing that Amy had lied, Becca still struggled to remember he wasn’t the man Amy had painted so vividly. Hard to believe Amy had never gotten any work as an actress. She sure had been convincing.

  Oh, Amy.

  Despite everything, Becca could barely think about her without feeling a little sick. Amy still hadn’t called, and the not-knowing was eating at Becca. Maybe she was okay, just not ready to face the music now that she knew Becca knew the truth.

  “The car is fine, Noah. I was just being careful not to hit anything.”

  “Like horses?”

  “Yeah. We’ll be there soon.”

  “Good. I need to pee.”

  She sighed. “Can you hold it for a few more minutes?”

  “I think so.”

  That, if nothing else, got her to move them along regardless of her trepidation. She’d spoken to Mrs. Mitchell—calling her Gail was going to be hard—after Ryder had left. Well, not right away. He’d pissed her off royally by using Noah and making her the bad guy if she said no.

  But since this visit was for his mom, Becca had decided she wouldn’t let Ryder’s sneaky tactics influence her. At least she’d had the fortitude to tell Gail straight off that they would only be staying one night. But then she’d remembered the stroke, and how Gail had responded to Noah, and Becca had hinted at a second night. And that’s where she’d put her foot down.

  Two nights, max, then back to the motel where she could keep a clear head. Not that it would be easy to leave once Noah got a load of all the horses.

  “Is it a few minutes yet?”

  “Not quite. If you look straight ahead, you’ll see the big sign that tells us we’re entering the Sundowner.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The name of the Mitchells’ ranch.”

  “Whoa...that sign is really high up,” Noah said as they got closer. “Do you think they had to stand on a horse to put it up there?”

  “I don’t know. That’s something else you can ask—your uncle.”

  She wanted to take back the flip suggestion. The more time Noah spent with Ryder, the more likely it was Noah would say something that would make things even more awkward. Or she would.

  Becca got her first glimpse of the two-story house on the hill, the one that looked out over the property. It seemed larger than what she remembered and must have had a new coat of paint since she’d seen it last. In fact, there was a second barn now, and several newer outbuildings had replaced the older ones where she and Amy had hung out. She wasn’t even sure what they all were, except for the big white bunkhouse, which still looked like something out of a Western movie.

  By the time they got up to the first corral, Noah was pretty much hyperventilating. It was clear this was no petting zoo. Men were on horses, the cattle were lowing like a full orchestra, and, oh, man, that was Wiley. As lean as always and still walked like he was gonna be late.

  She wondered if Otis was around and running the bunkhouse. He used to let them churn the big old-fashioned ice cream bucket during the summer months. Gail would bring in fresh peaches or strawberries, and they’d crank that sucker until it felt as if their arms would fall off. But they got the first two servings for their labor.

  “Do they have baby goats, you think? Mommy? Like we saw? And baby ducks?”

  “I think they mostly have cows and horses, Noah.”

  “Is that the house where we’ll sleep tonight?”

  “It is.” She pulled up next to an older truck that was parked near the path to the house. The front garden was almost all dormant, even though the weather had been mild compared to past Novembers. But the trees that bracketed the stone walkway were gorgeous, the ground beneath them covered in red and gold leaves.

  Becca’s stomach clenched as she shut off the engine, wondering if she shouldn’t just flat out confess to every last thing that had happened since she and Amy had left. But losing Noah? It would be like tearing her heart from her chest. Not to mention what it would do to him.

  He was only four, and he’d only known one mommy. She couldn’t just walk away from him, not when she knew all too well what it felt like to watch her own mother
walk away.

  Hell, her mom didn’t even know about Noah. It wasn’t that they never talked, but it seemed Katie had a knack for calling when Becca was at work and couldn’t talk long. A good thing, actually, since Becca hadn’t known what to tell her about Noah, not while everything had been up in the air with Amy.

  Anyway, Katie hadn’t been all that interested in news from LA. Not when she had so many tales of her own, such as watching the glaciers slowly disappearing and the wildlife threatened. These days, Katie was all about protecting the land and the wild things...not her only daughter.

  Becca had to hurry and get out to unbuckle Noah before he had a fit. It was no surprise that he was overexcited. This was a big deal to him.

  “Can we go see the horses? Can we?”

  “I thought you had to use the bathroom.”

  “But I can do that super fast. Then can we go see them?”

  “Stop squirming so I can get you out of this seat.” It took him a few seconds to settle. “Okay,” she said as she continued to unbuckle him. “First, we’re going to be good guests. Remember how we talked about that?”

  “Say please and thank you,” he said, drawing the words out to a sigh. “Ask nicely and don’t grab.”

  “That’s right. And what are you going to say to Mrs. Mitchell when we go inside?”

  “Thank you for inviting us, Mrs. Mitchell.”

  “Good boy. All right, we’ll deal with our bags later. Let’s make sure we don’t have any accidents first.”

  Once he was free, he wasn’t sure which way to go, so he jumped up and down, so anxious he could barely contain himself.

  She took hold of his hand, and he hopped all the way up the long stone pathway, up to the big old porch that still had the double swing on the right and the pair of rockers on the left. But there were two new benches, and the formerly brown shutters were now a rich green.

  Before Becca could knock on the door, it swung open, and there was Gail, leaning on her cane. Her face lit up as if it were her birthday and she’d just gotten the gift of her dreams.