Home on the Ranch: Tennessee Bull Rider

by April Arrington

  “Probably got more out of her than I did.” Landon’s low voice drew closer. “She won’t give me specifics about the guy.”

  Amber lifted Mason against her, then faced Landon, ready to force herself to speak the truth. But instead of the frustrated scowl Landon normally sported during this discussion, his expression was patient. Peaceful, even.

  “And she doesn’t have to,” Landon added. He looked down, lowered his finger over one of the cribs and grinned as Dylan’s small hand fluttered up, latching onto it. “Amber’s got a spine of steel and she doesn’t need us meddling. She knows what she’s doing.” He looked at her, eyes gentle. “Right?”

  The words she’d prepared died on her tongue, the admiration in his expression prompting another to take their place. “Right.”

  “Plus...” Landon tipped his chin at Nate. “These three have their second uncle back in town so all’s right in the valley again.” Laughing, he slipped his finger free of Dylan’s hold. “Now, let’s have some coffee and catch up while we can. Amber’s got a half hour at most before they start demanding to be fed again.” He ambled past Nate, then down the hall, calling out moments later, “Hurry up, slowpokes.”

  Mason squealed, wriggling impatiently against her belly. Amber settled him in his crib, then glanced at Nate. He’d grown paler and a muscle ticked in his jaw as he stared at the cribs.

  “Nate.” She crossed the room and touched his arm. The long sleeves of his cotton shirt were rolled up and his muscular forearm was warm against her fingertips. “We’ll tell him lat—”

  “I’m their father, not a token uncle.” Eyes fixed on the babies, he wrapped his long fingers around her wrist. “I’m not letting that stand.”

  “I know,” she whispered. Her pulse skipped beneath the familiar weight of his touch. “And we will tell him. We’ll just do it later, okay? When we’re better prepared.”

  “Amber?” Landon shouted. “Do you know the kitchen faucet leaks?”

  “Yes,” she called back. “I’m taking care of it later this week.” Tugging her hand free from Nate, she squeezed his upper arm, then edged past him into the hallway. “Come on.”

  Amber waited in the kitchen doorway until Nate’s heavy tread approached from the hall, then joined Landon at the sink. “Just twist the handle tight when you finish and it won’t drip as much,” she said, turning off the faucet after he finished filling the coffee carafe. “I’ll fix this and the bathroom after I pick up new washers.”

  “You got leaks in there, too?”

  “It’s an old house, Landon,” she drawled. “There are leaks everywhere.” She grabbed three coffee mugs from the cabinet, then glanced at Nate. “I’ve got flavored creamer if you’d like that instead of plain?”

  Nate stood beside the kitchen island, watching the small baby monitor propped on the counter. “Plain is fine,” he said absently before motioning toward the monitor. “I didn’t know they made these so you could see them, too.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Landon turned the coffeemaker on and smiled. “And it has a two-way mic so you can talk to them. Give it a shot. Mason loves the attention.”

  Nate bent closer to the small screen, then shook his head. “Nah. Wouldn’t want to disturb them.”

  Landon chuckled. “Usually, they’re the ones doing the disturbing. At about two every morning. Right, Amber?”

  She nodded, her cheeks heating as Nate looked at her, his expression grim. “That’s their prime time for some reason. Mason’s, at least.”

  Nate leaned against the counter and gripped his left side. “What are they like?”

  Amber hesitated at the glint of pain in his eyes. “Mason is the most active. He’s adventurous and charming.” Like you. She bit her lip. “Savannah is sweet but can be demanding when things don’t go her way. And Dylan—”

  “He’s the fussy one,” Landon said, his grin widening. “He’ll give you a run for your money.”

  Nate smiled but it was tight and died quickly. “I... Do you mind if I sit down for a bit?”

  “Hell, I’m sorry, man.” Landon straightened, concern clouding his eyes. “I wasn’t thinking.” He moved to stand next to Nate. “How bad are you hurt?”

  Nate hooked the heel of his boot around a stool leg and tugged it out from the island, still gripping his side. “Fractured rib.”

  Amber hissed in a breath. “And you drove all the way from Texas like that?” Her stomach dipped. “Alone?”

  “It’s not that big a deal—”

  “A fractured rib is a big deal. I knew you were hurt but...” Of all the stubborn, hardheaded—She clenched her teeth and crossed to his side. “Let me see.”

  “It’s not that bad,” he said, taking a step back. “Just a hairline fracture. And a small one at that.”

  “Yeah, right.” She tugged at the hem of his shirt. “That’s bull, Nate.”

  “Yep. That’s what did it.”

  She looked up, her fingers stilling on his shirt, and the lopsided grin on his handsome face almost made her smile. “It’s not funny.”

  “No.” He met her eyes, the green depths of his firm. “It’s not.”

  Her throat tightened as she stared back at him.

  “I’ll get you some ibuprofen,” Landon said, opening a drawer and rifling through it.

  Amber looked down and focused on the way her fingers curled into the hem of Nate’s shirt. “You’ll need an ice pack,” she said. “Please let me see so I’ll know how big to make it.”

  He sighed, stepped closer, then raised his arms a bit. She lifted his shirt, avoiding the dusting of blond hair arrowing down his sculpted abs toward his pelvis, and focused on the purple-and-yellow bruising blotching his left side.

  “Dear God, Nate.” She touched a trembling hand to it, apologizing softly when he flinched.

  His big palm cupped the back of her hand. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

  “It’s bad enough,” Landon said, sliding a bottle of pills across the counter. “Get a couple of those in you.”

  Skin tingling beneath Nate’s touch, Amber ducked her head and slipped away. “I’ll get you some water.”

  She filled a glass, handed it to Nate, then busied herself with filling a small plastic bag with ice while Landon pointed out all the improvements in the kitchen to Nate.

  Get it together, girl. The man was hurt and here she was struggling to keep her arms at her sides instead of wrapping them around his broad shoulders and rubbing her fingers through the hair at his nape. Besides, she’d touched Nate intimately before, and one night was enough.

  A gleeful burst of babbles rang out over Nate and Landon’s deep tones, bringing their conversation to a momentary halt.

  Amber tensed. Yep. One night had been more than enough.

  The babies’ restless sounds quieted again and the strong aroma of coffee filled the kitchen. Amber wrapped the ice pack in a dish towel, then filled each mug, breathing in the moist steam and trying to still the tremors coursing through her. Nate’s towering presence at her back and low, sexy voice made the small kitchen seem even tinier.

  “Why don’t we go out on the porch, if you’re up to it?” Landon asked. He passed Nate the ice pack, waited as he applied it, then handed him a coffee mug. “There’s something I want to show you before you leave.”

  The spoon slipped from Amber’s fingers and clattered onto the counter, splattering coffee on her shirt. She fisted the damp spot on her clothing. “Not tonight, Landon.”

  “Why not?” Landon headed for the front door. “It’s cool out and the fresh air will do us all some good.”

  Amber shook her head helplessly as Nate frowned in confusion, then slowly followed Landon to the porch. “It’s late and you and Nate should start home soon.”

  “Just for a minute, Amber.” Landon flashed a dimpled grin over his shoulder. “Come on. This takes all
three of us.”

  She smothered a groan. Lord, this day just kept getting better and better.

  Forcing her feet to follow, she joined them outside. A cool fall breeze swept through, rustling tree leaves and scattering a few burnt orange ones on the front steps. The dark veins and wrinkled edges of each were stark under the porch light.

  “Remember the day before our high school graduation?” Landon asked. He set his coffee cup on the porch rail and looked at Nate. “When Mean McBride called and actually invited us out here? Told us to bring Amber, too, then spoke to each of us in private?”

  Nate nodded, a strained smile on his face. “Yeah. He knew I was planning to take off after graduation and head to the circuit. Gave me an hour-long lecture about making good choices and being responsible.”

  “Uh-huh.” Landon grinned. “He grilled me on what I planned to do, too. He was dead-set on me watching out for Amber and not letting a bit of freedom entice me into leaving Elk Valley.” He glanced at Amber. “As though I’d ever think of leaving my family.”

  Amber shoved her hands in her pockets and stared at her shoes, a lump lodging in her throat. Landon had always been there for her and had taken on so many different roles over the years. Brother. Father. Protector. Landon’s loyalty and dedication had never had limitations or conditions. Not for her and not for Nate.

  Well...until he found out they’d kept secrets behind his back. There was no telling how deep that would crack the foundation of their friendship.

  She glanced up and found Nate’s eyes on her. Her cheeks heated as he studied her.

  “When we talked, he made me promise something,” Landon said. “I’m willing to bet he asked for promises from you, too.”

  Amber held up a hand and edged in front of Nate. “If he did, it’s between Nate and McBride. He spoke to each of us privately for a reason.”

  Landon nodded. “Maybe. But he’s gone now and we’re still here.” He crossed the porch and nudged the large tree stump sitting beside a rocking chair with the toe of his boot. “Together again. Just like he wanted.”

  Amber cringed. “Landon—”

  “Remember what he called us? The Good, the Bad and the Sassy.” Landon laughed. “It was the dumbest thing but damned if it hasn’t stayed with me.”

  Amber waved his words away. “The older he got, the more nostalgic he got.” Her eyes burned and she blinked rapidly, willing away the foolish tears. “It was silly just like that old stump.”

  Nate moved, his hard biceps brushing Amber’s shoulder as he passed. “He kept it?”

  “Yep,” Landon said. “Dried it out, stripped then glossed it. Left it to Amber along with the house.”

  Nate bent, clutching the ice pack to his injured side, and narrowed his eyes on the words etched into the preserved wood.

  Amber looked away. The deep carvings were emblazoned in her memory and she knew exactly what Nate was seeing.

  Landon, Nate and Amber had been cut into the top of the stump, carved deep into the heartwood, and surrounded with an awkward circle. Years ago, with McBride’s help, they’d each etched their own name into the old stump but McBride had taken over at the end, the odd angles of the poorly formed circle a result of his aged, unsteady hand.

  You’re family, he’d said. One stronger than the kind made of blood. His gnarled fingers had beckoned the three of them closer, then stacked each of their hands on top of the etchings. No matter what, you take care of each other.

  That had been a hard day. At eighteen, Nate had already lost both of his parents and, as a result of a tragedy a year prior, had strained relations with his twin brother. Amber and Landon had just learned of their mother’s cancer. A terminal one that made time a more precious commodity than any other in their lives. And, like so many occasions before, McBride had known what lay ahead. He could see the loss and pain waiting for them and sought to heal them before it hit. He’d loved all three of them like his own, even if he’d never admitted it out loud. And, in his own bristly way, he’d become a makeshift father for them all.

  “Come on.” Landon thrust his hand out over the stump, palm down, and his grin widened. “For old times’ sake. I’ll share if y’all do.”

  Amber tried again, her voice weak. “It’s really late—”

  “Yeah.” His smile tightened. “It’s late and past time to rectify it. Been way too long since all three of us stood still in the same spot at the same time.” He looked at Nate. “It’s what McBride would’ve wanted. He said I had a good streak in me. One y’all should always be able to count on, and he asked me to make a promise. Something I’d swear to always be for both of you.” He stepped closer, lifting his hand higher in the air, the youth and excitement of their childhood gleaming in his eyes. “Dependable.”

  Heat snaked up Amber’s neck then flamed in her cheeks. She looked at Nate, biting her lip at his stoic expression.

  “Come on, Nate,” Landon urged as his smile widened.

  Eyes focused on the stump, Nate shifted the ice pack under his arm, then slowly placed his hand upon Landon’s. He moved to speak then stopped, seeming to check himself before saying one word. “Loyal.”

  Nate’s strong fingers trembled. Amber stared at them. Traced the outline of Landon’s big hand beneath them.

  You got a sassy streak of pride in you, Amber. McBride had tapped the stump’s center with the sharp tip of his knife. More so than your brother or Nate. If you’re not careful, it’ll trip you up. Them, too.

  Her neck prickled beneath the weight of Nate’s and Landon’s expectant stares. Lord, she wished the wood planks beneath her feet would crack open and swallow her whole. Wished McBride were here so she could kick him square in the behind for being right at every turn. Wanted so badly to go back in time and tell Nate and Landon the truth before circumstances slipped out of her controlling hold.

  She took a shaky step forward, placed her hand over theirs, then forced herself to speak. “Honest.”

  Chapter 3

  Nate scrubbed his hands with a bar of soap for the third time, rinsed them off, then inspected each inch of skin.

  Clean. Finally.

  “You coming out of there or what?” The bathroom doorknob rattled. “Open up, Uncle Nate.”

  He grinned. Judging from the high-pitched voice on the other side of the door, one of his nieces was anxious to get her greeting.

  It’d been late when he’d arrived at Elk Valley Ranch last night and all three of Mac’s kids were already in bed. He’d overslept this morning, then taken his time showering and shaving, so he’d missed them at breakfast, too.

  Nate quickly dried his hands on a towel, then opened the door.

  “It’s about time.” Nadine, Mac’s eight-year-old daughter, smiled wide, then barreled into his middle, wrapping her arms around him as far as they could reach. “I thought you’d never come out.”

  Nate chuckled and lowered slowly to his haunches. His side stung as her hold tightened. “Easy, baby girl.”

  “Did the bull get you?” She stared up at him. “Dad said he threw you hard.”

  Nate nodded. “Yeah. But I still say I got the better of him.”

  Her concerned expression warmed his chest and he hugged her back despite the pain. Most people had difficulty telling Nadine and her twin sister, Maddie, apart, but Nate had never had that trouble. Nadine always had the same crooked grin and mischievous look in her eyes. The kind he’d had as a kid, too. And they’d enjoyed pulling pranks on her straitlaced father on more than one occasion.

  Man, he’d missed her. Missed all of them.

  “Where’s your brother and sister?” he asked.

  “They’re outside getting the baseball game started.” Nadine jumped back, then hopped from one foot to the other. “Ms. Dani’s umpiring, Dad’s catching and Jaxon’s pitching.”

  Nate smiled. “Sounds like y’all got it
all worked out. Or did Jaxon do the organizing?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Jaxon.”

  He laughed. “Yep. I figured as much.” That boy loved baseball. “Think you’ll need a good-luck kiss to overtake him?”

  “Nah.” She tipped her shoulders back. “I can hold my own.”

  “I’m sure you can. Care to escort your decrepit uncle outside now?”

  “Aw, you ain’t decrep-bed, Uncle Nate.” Nadine grabbed his outstretched hand. “You’re just getting old.”

  He stifled a grin. “Is that right? And where’d you hear that?”

  “Dad,” she said, tugging him toward the large staircase. “I heard him tell Ms. Dani you’re getting too old to ride the bulls. Said that’s why one managed to throw you this time.”

  Nate shrugged. “Maybe.”

  And maybe not. At thirty, he wasn’t the oldest competitor on the circuit but he was far from the youngest. He’d bet good money, though, that his bad ride had nothing to do with his age. It had to do with Amber.

  He cringed, tugging on Nadine’s hand to slow up as they descended the stairs. For over a year he’d thought of Amber daily. Had missed her and regretted the way he’d left things to the point that his head had no longer been in the game. But nothing could’ve prepared him for last night’s shock. Hell, he still hadn’t wrapped his head around the fact that he had three children. Or the fact that he’d already missed six months of their lives.

  And Amber still hadn’t called.

  He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and glanced at the message-free screen, not really expecting her to. Not after the secret she’d been planning to tell him had already been spilled and not after that guilt-riddled flashback with Landon on the porch last night. He suspected she was giving him time to absorb the reality of the situation before engaging in another conversation. And he was trying his best not to barge into her cabin and bulldoze into the new life she’d built for herself and their children.

  I’ve been chasing you all my life, Nate Tenley. Guess I finally got tired and decided I’d do things on my own for once.