The Rancher's Second Chance (Martin's Crossing Book 3)

by Brenda Minton

  “But you’re okay?”

  “I might have overdone it yesterday with all the walking. I woke up this morning and my knees were pretty swollen and stiff. I guess the drive to Fort Worth and back didn’t help.”

  “I’m sure it didn’t.” She sat quietly for a minute, then her hand touched his arm, tweaked the sleeve of his shirt.

  He chanced a look at her and found her serious brown eyes studying his face. It shook things loose inside him. And it anchored him. To her.

  This was how it felt to have someone. It felt like sitting next to this woman, knowing she cared. She didn’t have to touch him. She didn’t have to say anything. She just had to be there to make his world a little more right than it ever had been.

  And that scared the daylights out of him.

  The Bible study started and he focused on the lesson, the discussion and not the confusion that was making him question what he had with Grace Thomas. When her hand reached for his during the closing prayer, he handled it.

  “I’ll walk out with you. Oregon is parked out back, too.”

  He looked down at Grace, at her upturned face, her sweet smile. She didn’t seem in the mood to back down, not if that glint in her dark brown eyes meant anything.

  If he was being honest, he wasn’t quite ready to let go of her. It had been a long day. He’d sat with Sylvia and she hadn’t remembered him. For a short time she’d thought he was his father. In the end she’d ordered him out of her room.

  “Brody?”

  “If you’re going that way, we might as well walk together.”

  They took the long walk through the church slowly. He despised weakness. He hated that his body had betrayed him. The grinding in his left knee, even with the brace, was proof that he’d messed up in a big way.

  They reached the back door and stepped outside. The full moon shone down, casting a ribbon of silver across the lawn. Cool air brushed over them. Brody breathed in and reached for the hand of the woman on his left. She walked with him down the steps and across the parking lot to his truck.

  When they stopped he leaned against the truck, watching her in the pale moonlight. He wasn’t ready to let this moment end. And he knew all their moments were ending. He knew that the way he knew that his body was betraying him. Who wanted a broken-down cowboy? What in the world did he have to offer? A single-wide trailer, a lifetime of fighting a disease and some family issues that could make a great reality show?

  She gasped, startling him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He glanced down, expecting a frown. Instead, her mouth widened in an O and then spread to form a smile that touched her eyes.

  “She kicked,” she said in an awed tone.

  “Did she?” He watched as her hand stole to her belly, resting lightly.

  “Yes,” she insisted. “Brody, she’s kicking. You have to feel.”

  “I don’t think...”

  She wouldn’t take no for an answer. She grabbed his hand and placed it where hers had been, holding it there. “Wait for it.”

  And then he felt it, that tiny thump as a little foot engaged. He held his hand there a few seconds longer and then he pulled away, because it wasn’t his moment. But deep down, he wanted it to be his. He wanted to have the right to stand there with her, sharing all the moments that would matter.

  “Thank you,” he said as he moved back, putting space between them.

  Her hand stole to his cheek, brushing across his jaw and then down to his shoulder.

  “You’re a good man. Maybe the best man I know.”

  “I’m just a man, Grace. Not the best. Not the worst.” But he loved her. Man, he loved her. And given half a chance, he’d cowboy up and be the husband she deserved and the father her little baby needed him to be.

  He wanted that place in her life. He wanted it more than he could ever have imagined.

  “Kiss me, Brody.”

  The command was soft and it lured him. He guessed she probably intended that reaction from him. He’d never been one to turn down a woman. He touched his lips to hers, kissing her the way a woman ought to be kissed. She clung to his arms as he leaned against the truck, held her close. He raised his head and, staring into those dark eyes of hers, he got a little bit lost all over again. He brushed his lips against hers one last time, tangled his fingers in blond hair that wrapped like silk around his fingers, capturing him.

  “Go home, Grace.” He ground out the words as he backed away from her.

  She shook her head. “What?”

  “Go home to Fort Worth.”

  “I’m not prepared to let you tell me what to do, Brody. Especially when just five seconds ago me leaving seemed like the last thing on your mind. So why do you think you have the right to tell me to leave?”

  That was a pretty good question, one he didn’t have a real answer for. She had to get back to her life, to her family. He had to get control of his life, and that was hard to do with her living just down the road, all blond hair, deep brown eyes and temptation.

  “You don’t have an answer?”

  “No, I guess I don’t.”

  Every now and then when he felt as if he was falling for her all over again, he remembered how it had felt to sit across the table from her with a ring in his pocket as she told him she thought they should see other people. She wasn’t ready to get serious. She had a plan that included getting her degree, getting a job at a hospital in Fort Worth and then someday settling down.

  “Brody, let me do something for you tonight. I know you’re hurting and there’s no reason you can’t let a friend...”

  He put a hand up to stop her. “I’m fine. I got a shot today and it’s already starting to help.” He bent his knee to prove his point and he immediately regretted the move. She didn’t have to know that.

  “Yeah, you’re fine.”

  “I’m fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She nodded and retreated to the sidewalk.

  He climbed in his truck and drove away, wishing that he could go back to the woman in his rearview mirror. She stood in the parking lot for a moment, then she joined Oregon at her car.

  Knowing his limits, when he got home he parked his truck right in front of his trailer. From inside he heard the dog barking, first in warning and then demanding he get the door open. When he did, Sally ran out, circled his legs and then ran down the steps to do her business in the yard.

  “Come inside,” Brody left the door open and went in. He poured himself a glass of tea and crashed in his recliner.

  The dog raced through the door, then back out again, barking at something before she ran back inside a second time. Brody patted the arm of the chair. “Get up here, you.”

  Sally jumped on the footstool of the recliner and started licking Brody’s boots. “Crazy animal.”

  The white head cocked to one side and a happy tongue lolled out of the corner of the dog’s mouth. Brody reached to run a hand over her head. He closed his eyes, sighed with pure pleasure. Home felt pretty good.

  He must have dozed off because he jerked awake when Sally jumped up, barking with fierceness of a German shepherd even as she cowered next to Brody. He’d left the door open. Not a good move. He didn’t want to wake up with an armadillo snuffling around inside his house.

  “Go back to sleep. It’s probably an armadillo.”

  Sally growled, as vicious as a dust mop could possibly be. And that wasn’t very vicious. “Fine, I’ll close the door.”

  He started to push the recliner down when he saw a shadow cross the door. Great. Just what he needed was a prowler tonight. Or Lincoln. He really didn’t feel like fighting Lincoln tonight. But he would.

  As he started to get up, Grace stepped into view.

  * * *

  Grace walked up the steps
and through the front door of the trailer. She should have thought more clearly about this plan. She’d told Oregon she was going to check on him and Oregon had kept her opinion to herself, only cautioning her to be careful.

  “What are you doing here?” Brody was stretched out on the recliner, his dog next to him. The dog’s tail wagged now, and it whimpered rather than the high-pitched barking of moments ago.

  “I’m here to check on you. Maybe you could be more appreciative.”

  “You shouldn’t have walked down here. I have a phone if you want to check on me.”

  “Brody, you’re the most stubborn man I know.”

  “Probably.” He stretched and groaned.

  Grace helped herself to his kitchen, rummaged through the freezer and found bags of peas. She returned, bringing a chair from the dining room table with her. Brody had closed his eyes but he opened them now. Clear blue stared up at her from a face she longed to touch. She wanted to smooth his brow. She wanted to touch the dimple in the smooth plane of his cheek.

  She sat the chair next to him and took a seat, settling the bags of peas on his knees. “The cold will help the inflammation.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  Right, he was a bull rider, a rancher, a man. He knew about ice packs. She was sure he didn’t keep frozen peas in the freezer for evening meals. “Of course you know.”

  “Thank you, Grace.” His voice was husky and soft. She avoided looking at him.

  “I’ll get you another glass of tea and...” She stood, reached for the glass. “Is there anything else?”

  “My evening meds are on the counter.”

  “Gotcha.”

  Her hands shook as she opened the bottle of pills. Her heart trembled when she sneaked a peek at the man in the chair, his eyes closed. She should go. She shouldn’t be here, opening them both up to heartache.

  She sat down next to him and held out the glass of water and the pills. “Brody?”

  He opened his eyes and smiled. “You’re a good nurse.”

  “I’m not a nurse. Remember, I ran away from responsibility.”

  “You’re running back to it. You’ll get there, Gracie.”

  She hoped he was right.

  He took the pills and set the water glass down on the table. His hand reached for hers. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing, why?”

  “Your eyes tell more than you can imagine. What are you afraid of?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t go back. I’m going to have a baby. Sometimes I can think this belly and the little butterfly flutters in there are something detached from my life. It’s a baby, but right now it doesn’t always feel real. But in a few months it will be very real. It will be a living, breathing little person who has demands and needs. Right now I’m still thinking about my plans and my dreams. But it’ll all change. Every decision I make will be affected by this baby growing inside me.”

  His thumb brushed the top of her hand, rough but gentle against her skin. “Now I’m afraid.”

  “Stop. I’m serious.”

  “I know you are. I know. But you’ll do it because you’re determined and because that little guy of yours is going to need you.”

  “Girl.”

  His hand stilled over hers. “Right, girl. Or maybe both!”

  “I’m not having twins. That would be...”

  “It happens.”

  “You’re distracting me.”

  He sighed and slowly lifted her hand to his mouth, kissing lightly before placing her hand back on the arm of the chair. “Yeah, I’m good at that. I’m all smoke and mirrors.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re real and genuine and I needed to be here because you’re also my friend.”

  “Yes, I’m your friend.” He said it as if it was the worst thing ever. And she didn’t want it to be that. “You’re going to be afraid, Grace. You’re having a baby. A little human being is going to depend on you for everything. That’s huge. But it isn’t anything you can’t do.”

  “Thank you.” She leaned and kissed his cheek. “You’re going to be a good dad someday.”

  “Right, of course I will. Hopefully by the time I have kids I can still teach them to ride their first pony and take them fishing.”

  “Brody...”

  “No, you get your fears. I get to own mine.”

  “Then, can I say both of our fears are unfounded?”

  “You can say that.” His dimple appeared. That one, distracting dimple near the left corner of his mouth.

  “How are you feeling?” She stood, touching the bags of frozen vegetables and realizing they’d started to thaw. She picked them up and carried them to the kitchen.

  “I’m good. Tired.”

  “I’m leaving, then.” She picked up the chair and returned it to the table in the kitchen.

  “Alone?” He sat up, no longer groggy. “Grace, you know I can’t let you walk back to Oregon’s alone.”

  “I’m a big girl, Brody.”

  “And I’m still an old-fashioned cowboy.” He pushed the footstool down and got up. “I’m going with you.”

  “I can call you when I get there.”

  “You want me to sit here and wait for you to call? I don’t think so.”

  They were walking out the door when she spotted the Moses-style walking stick, hand carved, the wood sanded smooth. She grabbed the carved piece of wood that was almost taller than she was. “Is this yours?”

  “Yeah, Lefty carved it for me. He said I’d feel more manly using it.”

  “Can you part the Red Sea with this thing?” She handed it to him and he surprised her by taking it.

  “No, but I can kill a snake with it.”

  The walking stick had a hand grip about two feet down from the top, making it easy to hold on to. She could tell as they walked that he had used it before. It probably helped take pressure off the knee that was quickly losing cartilage.

  “When are they going to do your surgery?”

  “Not for a while. Eventually I will require a total knee replacement.”

  “They won’t do that until they have to.”

  “No.” He leaned on the stick, taking the uneven ground with slow steps. “I told you I could still cowboy up and take care of a woman.”

  “I didn’t doubt you.”

  “No?”

  They were almost to Oregon’s. She stopped, looked up at him. The moonlight sliced rays of light across the field as thin clouds, white in the moonlight, chased one another across the sky.

  “Brody, I really made serious mistakes.”

  “Yeah, well, we can’t undo that, can we?” He kept walking. “Grace, not tonight. I don’t want to talk about what could have been. This is the reality. We’re both living it. I’m not the man you needed, then or now. I had a lot of baggage to work through, and now I have a few added layers. You’re trying to figure out your life, how to go back and finish your education, how to be a single mom.”

  “Not tonight,” she repeated. “What you’re really saying is not any night.”

  “Maybe, Grace. Maybe we both need to step back and focus on figuring out what comes next, because adding another person complicates things.” He stopped walking and reached down, letting his hand drift through her hair.

  She shivered at his touch, closed her eyes. “This feels like goodbye.”

  “Yeah, it does.”

  She nodded and walked away from him, knowing he wouldn’t follow. She glanced back as she opened the front door of Oregon’s and saw him standing in the moonlight. She wanted to go back, to tell him she couldn’t do this alone.

  But that was part of the problem. She had to do this on her own to prove that she could. To herself.

  Chapter Fourteen

 
Brody was stretched out in a lawn chair, hat pulled low to block the sun from his face and a glass of iced tea in his hand when Duke pulled up the next afternoon. He squinted one eye at the man watching from his truck. Duke shook his head, said something Brody couldn’t hear and got out of the truck.

  “A man in jeans, a T-shirt and cowboy boots catching a few rays. This is pathetic,” Duke spoke as he walked up to him.

  “I’m resting. It’s what you do when you have an autoimmune disease. Rest, eat healthy and ignore annoying older brothers. So far it isn’t working. I don’t feel better at all.”

  Duke pulled up another lawn chair and sat down. Sally barked a few times and jumped on Duke’s lap.

  “Is this how you’ve spent your birthday?” Duke asked, his tone saying he wanted to sound as if he didn’t care. Brody grinned. Of course his big brother cared.

  “Yep” seemed like the best answer.

  “Yep? Well, you’ve got some womenfolk pretty upset. They’re at Jake and Breezy’s cooking up something. They want to surprise you. I knew you wouldn’t come up even if I begged. So I’m using guilt to get you up there, because I know you don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.”

  “Nope.”

  Brody pushed his hat back and zeroed in on Duke.

  Duke grinned. “So it’s working?”

  “Yeah, I guess I don’t have a choice. I’m twenty-seven. If I could, I’d do a happy dance for you.”

  “But since you can’t, you’ll come down to Jake’s and eat cake and make as if you’re having the time of your life. If you don’t, Lilly will be crushed. She made you something special.”

  “I’d do anything for your daughter, so don’t use her that way.”

  Duke held up his hands in surrender. “Never ever would I use my daughter to manipulate my little brother.”

  “Thanks. That means a lot to me.” He pushed himself up and reached for the walking stick. “I’ll be down in an hour. Is that good?”

  “It is. Do you want me to wait for you?”

  “No, I can manage.” He wanted to say more, but he didn’t. He knew Duke cared. He cared about Duke. So why fight on his birthday? It just didn’t make sense.