The Rancher Next Door

by Betsy St. Amant

  Oh. Brady flinched. Not what he’d expected. “I didn’t realize.” The words fell flat, and he almost wished he hadn’t said anything and just let the chorus of birds chirping overhead fill the silence in the sun-streaked cemetery.

  She continued to stare, as if the marker held some sort of control over her. “I never got to say goodbye.” She sank back to her knees, not seeming to care the way the dirt stained her jeans.

  Brady slowly lowered beside her, crouching on his boots. “What happened?”

  “Heart attack.” She rubbed at her eyes again, smearing black eye makeup almost to her ear. “I wasn’t here.” She sniffed.

  Her sun-tinted cheeks flushed redder with emotion. She clearly felt guilty about her dad’s death, somehow, but he couldn’t piece together why. People didn’t make other people have heart attacks. Obviously her guilt was misplaced, but without the details, he couldn’t help her see that. Nor could he play Twenty Questions to figure it out while she cried over a tombstone.

  He cut his eyes to Jessica’s marker several yards away. It’d been too long since he let Ava bring flowers. Did Caley know it was there? Did it even matter? He closed his eyes, briefly reliving that tragic afternoon that changed his life forever. Then, connected by their shared grief, he did the only thing he knew to do.

  Sank down in the dirt beside Caley and stained his own jeans.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Really? That’s excellent news.” Caley’s heart rate accelerated as she struggled to hear Captain O’Donnell through her lousy cell-phone reception. She pinched one ear shut and strode briskly up Brady’s living room stairs, hoping the higher level would solidify the patchy conversation. “I appreciate the update.”

  “No problem.” Captain’s deeper voice rumbled through the patchy connection, masked briefly by Ava’s moans of homework-related frustration from her room. “Chief is impressed with how many runs you’ve managed to make during your time back in Broken Bend. He can tell you’re a serious candidate for the position.”

  Caley exhaled a sigh of relief that she quickly turned away from Ava’s verbal headache. Thank goodness the chief was seeing her the way she’d hoped. She’d sacrificed sleep, down time to herself and, to be painfully honest, even time with Nonie in order to run whenever that pager buzzed. But once she was hired on the department, her schedule would calm down, and she would have set hours and not have to jump at every alarm.

  She’d never thought she, of all people, would be ready for a bit of consistency.

  “As long as you keep participating and there aren’t any surprises at the annual budget meeting, you should be set.” Captain’s smile shone through his voice, and not for the first time, Caley wondered what it would have been like to hear that fatherly pride from her dad. Captain barely knew her, but was already impressed—as was Chief Talbot—with Caley’s ability and work ethic. Why couldn’t her dad have seen the same, have seen her strengths and her destiny to help others, rather than trying to keep her in a box her entire life?

  “I won’t let you down. Any of you.” The promise came from deep inside her heart, and as they disconnected the call, Caley stared at her phone, wishing she could have kept the same commitment to her father. Yesterday’s breakdown in the cemetery had been a lot less cathartic than she’d hoped. She’d gone for clarity and closure, and instead, left with more confusion and heartache than ever. Only adding to her confusion was Brady’s sudden appearance—the last person she’d expected to see riding up like a knight on a metal, hay-strewn steed.

  The memory stirred something warm within her. There she’d been, teary-eyed and drippy, a total mess, crying in public as though her father had died yesterday instead of years ago. But in some ways it felt the same. That’s what regret did to a person’s soul. Would she ever find a way through it?

  Did she deserve to?

  The worst part was, she was still angry. Sorry for her part in their fallout, but more than a little upset over his. Neither of them had ever stepped forward to reconcile.

  Wasn’t that a dad’s job, to take the first step? Especially after she’d already made gestures. All he’d had to do was respond. Show up. For the first time in her life, just be there without judgment, without expectation. Just come.

  Apparently that had still been too much to ask.

  But Brady had understood, despite the fact they barely talked. His supportive shoulder and the way he filled the silence with his presence, without finding it necessary to speak, spoke volumes in itself. Despite all their differences, he cared. She didn’t know how long they sat kneeling in the dirt, letting the earth seep through their jeans before finally returning to the ranch. She’d gone to her house and he to his, but his departing smile and wave as he rumbled past her driveway had been different, somehow. Deeper. More sincere.

  Connected.

  A third groan, louder this time, rang from Ava’s room. Caley shoved her phone into her pocket and quickly jogged back upstairs to lend homework assistance. Her homework days were far behind her, but even writing lines would beat daydreaming about Brady. Talk about a dead-end road. She knocked on Ava’s slightly open door and eased it open, the hinges squeaking.

  “Math hates me.” Ava stared glumly at the textbook before her on the desk, the pencil in her white-knuckled grip hovering above her notebook full of scratched-out problems. A doodle of a dog that had to be Scooter sat discarded beside the notebook. “And I hate Dad’s rule about homework being done first on a Friday night. It’s the weekend!”

  “Rules are rules, kid. Complaining doesn’t change them.” Caley actually thought that rule of Brady’s wasn’t a bad one. It definitely prevented any late-Sunday-night panic over unfinished work. She hip-bumped Ava half out of the desk chair. “Scoot over and let me see.” She bent over the book and determined the topic. “Fractions, huh?”

  “We’re not even allowed to use a calculator.” Ava flopped her head down on her crossed arms in true preteen, drama-queen fashion. “And Mandy was supposed to come over after dinner, but now I’ll never finish.”

  “Sure you will. The key is not getting so worked up that you can’t even think. Deep breaths.” Caley skimmed the problems while Ava inhaled and exhaled, then worked a few on the notepad. She tapped Ava with the pencil when she finished. “It’s not that bad. You just have to focus.” She pointed to one of the attempts Ava had scratched out. “You almost had it here.”

  Caley walked a reluctant Ava through several problems before an understanding light began to shine in her eyes. “I think I get it now.” She did the next problem on her own, and Caley knew without checking it was correct.

  “Good job! See, you just can’t give up.” She gave Ava a quick hug before slipping out of the chair to give her space to work. “Giving up means you immediately lose.”

  “That’s what usually happens.” Ava wrinkled her nose, half turning in her chair. “When I get stuck on a problem, Dad and I start arguing and we give up.”

  Caley nodded slowly. Understandable, but not a great model for education. However, she sensed this wasn’t

  really about math anymore. Ava was comparing Caley with her dad. And that was what was doing the most damage to Brady. She’d seen it before when Ava mentioned she’d rather Caley help her clean her room than her dad. And every instance that Brady had to turn her down for being busy with ranch work. He had to go, yet Caley was still there by default as her nanny.

  And, to be honest, she was here because she wanted to be. She hated watching the strain between Ava and her dad, and anything she could do to ease the gap for Ava, she wanted to do it. The whole situation was too painfully familiar. Yet it seemed Brady’s heart was softer than her own father’s had been. He loved Ava, that much was evident—

  he just didn’t seem to know what to do with her.

  But had her involvement in Ava’s life pushed Brady further
away instead of drawing him closer to his daughter?

  She chose her next words carefully. “Ava, different people have different strengths. Your dad might not be as naturally inclined toward math as I am. But there’s a lot of things he’s good at that I’m not.” Like laying down roots. Committing to one place, one community, for a lifetime. She swallowed the examples. Specifics wouldn’t help right now—especially with Ava seeming as naturally stir-crazy in her heart as Caley had been at her age. No need to plant ideas in the girl’s head that would just make her miserable. Besides, Ava’s current issue didn’t seem to be her desire to leave or live elsewhere, so much as it seemed she just wanted her dad’s undivided attention.

  Somehow, Caley would make sure she got it.

  “Is that why people get married?” Ava hung one arm over the back of her chair, pencil dangling from her fingers. “To help each other when the other person isn’t good at something?”

  Caley stumbled back a step before catching herself on the side of Ava’s bed. She swallowed her surprise at the sudden change in topic and sank onto the bedspread. “Uh, that’s one benefit to marriage, yes.”

  “You and my dad would make a good team.” A slight smile lit Ava’s face. “You’d be strong where he was weak.”

  “And vice versa,” Caley automatically corrected. Then sucked in a regretful breath. Her choice of words made it sound as if she was giving her agreement. Hopefully Ava wouldn’t notice or think that—

  “Yep. And vice versa.” Ava’s grin morphed into a near beam of light.

  * * *

  Something smelled good. Really good. He hoped whatever it was didn’t end up on the kitchen floor—or in the trash can.

  Brady stomped his boots a few times on the entry mat, then hurried to peek inside the oven. A rush of hot air and the tangy aroma of oregano and cheese blasted his face—followed by a solid whap on his shoulder.

  He let the door snap shut and turned to see Caley armed with an oven mitt and a feisty smile. “No peeking. This is Ava’s surprise.”

  “Ava cooked?” He moved away from the oven and her weapon of choice, then realized that decision put him perfectly in line with the freshly baked garlic bread cooling on the counter. He broke off the end of the loaf and popped it into his mouth, dodging Caley’s second assault with the mitt. The bread practically melted against his tongue, and he resisted the urge to suggest maybe his daughter give Caley cooking lessons. He’d take a steady beating with that mitt in exchange for another bite of bread any day. His stomach growled, and he went to grab a second pinch but Caley moved it out of his way.

  “She sure did. And don’t go in the dining room. She’s creating a special place setting, and apparently it’s a surprise, too. She’s really getting responsible.” Caley started to say more but a knock on the front door interrupted. She held up one finger to indicate for him to wait—and probably to also stay off the bread.

  “Ava! Your friend is here.” She backed out of the kitchen and hollered toward the formal dining room. Brady swallowed as he eyed the closed doors across the hall. They hadn’t used that room since...when? The holidays last year. And even then, it’d felt pointless. Like a charade. Like they were some kind of fancy, proper family gathered around a perfectly stuffed goose, surrounded by mistletoe and holly and spiced gumdrops.

  Last Christmas, he and Ava had dined on ham sandwiches, baked beans and a frozen apple pie.

  Caley checked the timer on the oven, then shot an apologetic glance his direction. “Ava said you told her it was okay for Mandy to come over after dinner, but after we finished her homework and she cooked, she was so excited she asked if Mandy could eat with us. She asked me to stay, too.” She donned a second mitt and removed the bubbling dish from the oven. Brady had half a mind to grab it from her, but decided not making sudden movements was probably safer. For both his sake and that of his dinner. “I hope that was okay. I went outside to ask you but you weren’t in the barn.”

  “Of course.” Was he so strict they thought he’d mind if Caley stayed and ate? He didn’t even know how to answer that. Then her words finally registered. “You mean Ava did her homework and cooked all this?” He waved his hand around the kitchen, noting a full salad in a bowl by the sink, already tossed. He hadn’t realized they’d had lettuce in the house. It didn’t even look bagged. “What about her math?”

  “Math is done, along with spelling words and notecards for her science project.” Caley deposited the saucy, cheesy concoction that resembled some sort of lasagna on top of the stove.

  Brady couldn’t help but follow her every movement, afraid to fully recognize how natural she looked in his kitchen. How he could watch her bustle around and multitask in his home as if it was her own all day long with zero complaints. His mouth dried, and he was suddenly overcome with the crazy urge to tell her that. “Caley?” Oops. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

  She turned toward him, a smear of sauce dotting the corner of her mouth and her upraised hands still encased in mitts. She looked adorable—cute enough he could almost forget all their differences.

  Almost.

  He reached forward, the urge still there but now restrained, and swiped the sauce from her face. “I just busted you for taste testing.”

  Her eyes, wide and luminous with unasked questions, dimmed briefly before igniting with her typical spark. “Guilty. Ava insisted on extra onion powder, and I had to make sure it wasn’t a bad idea.”

  Would she even know if it was? He wanted to tease her about her cooking skills, but he feared the banter would lead to more moments he couldn’t resist. In just a few minutes, he’d have more than enough emotion to fight, sitting with Caley and Ava around their dining room table like a real family.

  The doorbell chimed and Caley quickly removed the mitts. “I guess I better get the door after all.” She strode past the dining room, calling for Ava a second time just as she rushed out.

  “I got it!” Ava sidestepped Caley and shut the dining room door behind her, then practically ran for the entryway. “Hope you enjoy your dinner, Dad.” She flashed him a smile, one without lingering traces of their argument yesterday, and Brady smiled in return as he followed her to the front door. His daughter, growing up. Cooking supper. Doing her chores. What was that Caley had said about responsibility? Maybe—

  “See you guys tomorrow.” Ava shouldered a duffel bag that seemed to appear out of nowhere and wrenched the door open.

  A humid breeze wafted through the entryway and Mandy grinned from the front steps. “Hi, Mr. McCollough. Thanks for letting Ava spend the night.”

  “What? Wait a second.” Brady reeled backward, nearly tripping over Caley, who had come up behind him. He caught his balance. Ava spend the night at her house? Mandy was staying with them. His head raced. “What about dinner?”

  Ava rushed outside as if she hadn’t heard, grabbing Mandy’s hand and dragging her down the front walk toward her mother’s van. Mandy’s mom waved from the front window, all smiles. She clearly wasn’t surprised. Had he misunderstood? He replayed the conversation he and Ava had that morning before school, when she’d asked to invite a friend over. No, he wasn’t mistaken.

  So much for responsibility. Ava was already shutting the van door behind her. He lifted one hand in a wave back at Mandy’s mom, pressing his lips together into a tight line and debating rushing down the driveway and hauling Ava back inside. The problem wasn’t Mandy’s house, she’d stayed there a dozen times before. It was the deceit. Ava had lied—or purposefully misled him. Either way, she couldn’t get away with it, or this wouldn’t be the last time. He took a step toward the van.

  A cool hand on his forearm stilled his booted feet. Caley. “Don’t embarrass her. It was just a misunderstanding.”

  “A misunderstanding? I don’t think so.” Brady shook his arm free of her grip, not in the mood for interference. Especi
ally from someone who had already made things worse between him and his daughter—even if unintentionally.

  All the attraction he’d been fighting moments ago in the kitchen melted into a hot wave of frustration. Caley might have been hired to watch his daughter, but he hadn’t hired her to drive a wedge further between them. He was sick of being compared to his nanny and coming up short. He clenched his fist at his side, wishing he had a hay bale to sling, and took a deep breath before speaking. “She asked me specifically if Mandy could spend the night here. What’s so confusing about that?”

  Caley flinched at his hardened tone, and he reeled his temper in, clamping his mouth shut. He wasn’t being fair. This wasn’t Caley’s fault. It was Ava’s.

  And probably his own.

  By then, the van had backed out of the driveway and was halfway down the street. He shut the door harder than he should have, his good mood over Ava’s surprise dinner ruined. One good surprise didn’t cancel out a bad one. What had she been thinking?

  “I don’t understand, then.” Caley crossed her arms over her sleeveless top, eyes wary as if he were a dog she wasn’t sure would bite her or not. “Why would Ava go to so much trouble to cook for you if she wasn’t going to be here to see you eat it?”

  “I don’t know.” But he’d definitely be finding out. Soon. Brady headed to the kitchen for the cordless phone, then realized the girls hadn’t had time to make it to Mandy’s house yet. He’d have to wait.

  He slammed the phone back into its base and ran his hands through his hair. If Ava was this deceitful over a simple slumber party with a friend, what choices would she make once she started driving in a few years? Once she discovered boys? His stomach twisted. He had to nip this in the bud, now. Before it barreled out of control like a fire in a basement cellar.

  He grabbed his truck keys off the counter. If he couldn’t call Ava, then he’d go after her.

  “Um, Brady?” Caley’s soft voice called from the hallway, timid and unsure. Not at all like herself. “I think you need to see this.”