Once a Rancher

by Linda Lael Miller

  Blythe laughed and shook her head. “Of course not. Boys don’t admit they struggle. They pretend they don’t. Their emotions go as deep as ours, but they’re often not very good, very practiced, at expressing them.” She studied the linen tablecloth for a moment. “You know, Slater isn’t over the death of his father. But it’s made him a very good father to Daisy, I promise you that, and I console myself with it every single day. I don’t mean to get maudlin. Things happen. We all know that. You were a police officer so you’re especially aware that the world isn’t perfect. Anyway, let’s move on. This discussion is about happiness. What color?”

  Grace had been about to say the chicken salad was delicious and had no idea how to answer Blythe’s question. She stopped with a forkful halfway to her mouth. “We’re talking about…”

  “Dresses. Bridal gown and bridesmaids’. What color? Long skirts or short? Harry and I were thinking long because of the season.”

  Slater’s prediction came through like a bright light shining down a tunnel. The wedding was being planned—just not by her. “Light blue,” she said, at least prepared for that question. “Something very simple. I thought I’d ask Daisy if she’ll be a bridesmaid. My assistant, Meg, has already said yes. Two of them to balance Drake and Mace. That’s it.”

  “I understand you want simple, since you’ve been married before, but Slater hasn’t. There hasn’t been a Carson wedding since mine, and that was quite some time ago.” Blythe’s smile glimmered. “We won’t go into how many years or I’ll start to feel old. Also, I’m sure Ryder will be included, so you should have three bridesmaids. Who else?”

  Slater came by his ability to get what he wanted honestly. Maybe they should elope, but…Blythe seemed to be enjoying this, and Grace knew he’d want his mother to be happy. “I could ask my sister-in-law in Texas, but she has a busy life and young family… What about Raine?”

  Blythe’s smile widened, and there was a hint of mischief there. “I was going to suggest it, but I was afraid you might find that awkward. It isn’t. She’s one of Slater’s very good friends, and I know she’s happy for him. I, uh, might already have mentioned it to her.”

  She clearly would not be planning her own wedding. Grace could feel it skidding out of her control. She said with a certain resignation, “I’ll call her.”

  “She’ll appreciate that. Now, shall we talk flowers?”

  An hour later Grace got into her car and hit Slater’s number on her cell phone. Skipping hello, he said, “Told you.”

  “Smug is not how you’re going to win my affections.”

  “I thought I had that in the bag. So, how was lunch?”

  “Delicious. And I love your mother, but how come I didn’t agree to elope—somewhere tropical? Or maybe Las Vegas for a quickie wedding?”

  “That’s my question, too. Has Harry decided on the menu?”

  “Oh, yes. And the table settings right down to the napkin rings. I was asked a few questions, but most of it was figured out quite a while ago, and they were just pretending I had a say.”

  “Welcome to Carsonville, USA. I might be the oldest male, by the way, but I am definitely not in charge.”

  “I think Red’s the oldest male, and he has more clout than you.”

  His response held amusement. “Can’t argue with that. His name might not be Carson, but Drake, Mace and I stand at attention when he comes into a room. That old coot could probably still wipe the floor with all three of us if we got out of line. What are we doing tonight?”

  “I just had lunch with your mother, so you’re having dinner with my ex-husband.”

  She felt no small sense of satisfaction when he said in audible dismay, “What?”

  “Steaks on the grill, twice-baked potatoes, seven-layer salad. I figured since you’re bringing Ryder home this evening, you could stay and eat with us.” What she didn’t add was that she wasn’t interested in another tension-filled evening alone with Hank, especially now that he knew she was marrying another man. Ryder often ate dinner at the ranch, so she’d sat across the table from Hank one too many times, trying to defuse the silence with polite conversation. Slater would be good company, and it would help to have Ryder there, too. Hank would make an effort to converse with his son.

  She needn’t have worried. When she got to the condo, his rental car was gone…and so was he. There was a sealed note on the counter with Ryder’s name on it and for her, the usual. New orders. Hank.

  No thank-you for her hospitality, but she didn’t really expect one. He’d caught on immediately that she was involved with someone else, but he and Slater seemed to have if not a liking for each other, at least mutual respect and civility.

  Part of her was overjoyed that his stay had been cut short because she hadn’t been pleased about it in the first place, and part of her mourned for Ryder yet again. However, he was in a stable environment now, where a lot of people cared about him. She took one of the steaks she’d bought and stuck it in the freezer, went over to Bonaparte, who was napping on the couch, and stroked his back. “Plus,” she informed the cat, “he has you.”

  Ryder’s best friend managed to purr and yawn at the same time.

  Her phone beeped and Grace got up to check, expecting it to be the resort since she was taking a day off, but it was Slater and he sounded tense. “Grace, Ryder didn’t get off the bus. I can’t find him and I’ve been looking. Can you call the school?”

  *

  WELL, HELL.

  Slater drove his truck along the bus route one more time, his throat dry. Ryder, so far, anyway, hadn’t missed the bus once since he’d started working at the ranch, and Slater felt a gnawing worry that grew worse with each passing minute.

  It had been almost an hour. He wasn’t the only one worrying, either. Next to him, Red asked, “You mind telling me exactly what’s going on, cowboy? Because I’m getting the feeling that there’s a dead mouse in the pantry.”

  He could tell Red anything; he knew that. “Grace fired someone who thinks he needs a bit of revenge, and Ryder would be just the way to do it. Maybe I’m panicking for nothing, but maybe I’m not. I have to go with my gut…and my gut says this isn’t good.”

  “I kinda wondered why you were so jumpy earlier.” Red took off his hat and ran his hand through his graying hair. “Nobody better hurt that kid.”

  “Got that right.” Slater meant it, too. He took a fast turn that made his tires squeal, then slowed it down. The cops wouldn’t appreciate it if he caused an accident. They had enough to do. No one seemed to know where Ryder Emery was. Spence Hogan had detailed several officers to search for him. The fact that Hank Emery had been knocked unconscious recently and Grace had reported the repeated vandalism of her car, as well as those photographs, meant Spence was taking this very seriously. When Slater passed a state trooper’s car and then a second one, he knew just how seriously.

  If Slater was in full panic mode, he could only imagine how Grace felt.

  Grace’s car was in the driveway of the condo and she was hovering in the doorway, talking on her cell phone. Her face, framed by her vivid hair, was extremely pale.

  When he got out, she ended the call and came outside. But before he could take her in his arms to offer comfort, Red beat him to it. He hugged her and patted her back. “L’il darlin’, we’ll find him. That boy is a smart cookie.”

  She hugged him back, composed, and yet her voice held a distinct wobble. “I know he is. But he’s only fourteen, and Reinhart is a coward. I had some experience with this sort of thing when I was a cop, and I can tell you cowards scare me a lot more than the big bad boys. He’s a sociopath, and having a lack of conscience also means a lack of empathy. I am so damn mad right now I could—”

  “Spit?” Red supplied helpfully.

  That wrung out a weak laugh. “Okay, yeah, spit.”

  Slater asked, “Where’s Hank? At the school? I have Drake and Mace out there looking, so we don’t want to overlap. Raine’s going to all the local teen hango
uts, and my mother and Harry are going to call instantly if he shows up at the ranch.”

  “Hank left for who knows where.” She raised her phone. “I can’t get hold of him. I keep trying and leaving messages on his voice mail. He either can’t or won’t answer. Your guess is as good as mine as to which one it is. He’s ticked off at me because of you.”

  It wasn’t as if this was startling news.

  “None of this is your fault.” He kept his voice gentle.

  His feisty bride-to-be shot right back. “Oh, I know that. Hank’s misguided assumption that I’d ever be interested in a repeat performance of our failed relationship is his problem. And I’d fire David Reinhart’s dishonest ass again tomorrow.”

  That was the Grace he knew. And loved. But he could see the distress in her eyes—and was still in shock because as far as he knew Red had never hugged anyone (other than his long-ago wife). Maybe a handshake or a slap on the shoulder, but a real hug? Forget it.

  “We’ll find him,” Slater repeated, but this was outside the scope of his experience.

  “Where?” She was much more practical. “How? I’m open to all suggestions.”

  But his phone rang then, which meant he could avoid answering her. Just as well, since he was at a total loss. He saw Drake’s number on call display. “Hello?”

  His brother was as eloquent as usual. “Got ’im.”

  “Ryder?”

  “Yeah, who else am I looking for? I’m not the FBI or anything. He’s the only kid I was tracking down.”

  He reminded himself he loved Drake so he could overlook the sarcasm and gave Grace a thumbs-up and mouthed, He’s safe. “Where was he?”

  “Is. County fair. Told me his dad said it was okay. Another parent took him there. Seems one of the other kids broke his leg and has one heck of a cow pony. So all his friends agreed Ryder should enter the calf-roping in his place.”

  If Slater wasn’t light-headed with relief, he might’ve tried to hunt down Hank Emery and given him hell for not letting Grace know.

  He could hear the reluctance in Drake’s voice, but his brother admitted, “I feel responsible. That kid’s really taken to roping and said he wanted to go watch the rodeo. Of course I thought he’d ask Grace, too, not just the old man. It finally occurred to me that might be where he was, since he’d asked for a day off. I’m sorry I didn’t put two and two together faster.”

  Grace hugged Red again, but this time in relief and pure joy. Slater was beginning to feel a little neglected.

  “I’ve been busy,” Drake was saying. “Another missing calf, running a ranch, brother getting married…the usual stuff…” He rambled on, and he wasn’t a rambler by any means. Then, to make the day even more interesting, he added in disgust, “Mace deserves the credit. He remembered the Bliss County fair was due to start today because Harry always wins with that pie he likes. Remember how he shamelessly hogged the whole damn thing when she made it the first time? He ate an entire pie. She’s won, like, five years in a row. Finally his overactive pie-hole did someone a favor.”

  Slater started laughing and had to choke out the words. “Bring Ryder here, please. Grace needs to see with her own eyes that he’s safe.”

  “Hell, no,” Drake said, his refusal firm. “They’re about to start the qualifying in his age group. I’m telling you, he’s got a shot if that horse is as good as it’s supposed to be. Get over here and cheer him on.”

  From hell to heaven. Plus, everyone would love it if Ryder qualified. “We’ll be there as quickly as we can make it.”

  “Well, we’ll all be here.”

  He ended the call and pointed at Red. “County Fair Grounds. You’ve been coaching him, haven’t you? The kid’s there. If Ryder qualifies, maybe someday Grace will forgive you.”

  Red looked about as guilty as he ever did, which was not at all. He muttered, “I don’t study the calendar and didn’t remember the fair was this week. All that happened was he asked me if I thought he should try it someday. I said he should. For a beginner, he’s pretty good. Got the hang of it right away. Besides, you know I always say if you don’t try for something, you won’t get it.”

  “I’ll bump beers with you later, since he seems to be safe. You and Grace and I are headed out to make sure that’s true, although I do trust Drake and Mace.”

  “You should.” Red looked affronted. “Those two ruffians are like oil and vinegar, but they’re protective enough of Ryder that they’d charge into a buffalo stampede to save him.”

  Grace stared at them as if they’d both lost their minds. But at least she had a faint smile on her lips. “Buffalo stampede? I assume that’s a thing of the past, even around here.”

  “Red’s watched too many old Westerns.” Slater took her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “Come on, let’s go—right after I call off the search.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  SHE WAS TRYING not to be too elated, but the nightmare had lifted like a fog evaporating over a cold lake, and Grace couldn’t believe the surly teenage boy who’d suddenly become her responsibility was whooping it up as the finalists were announced.

  She’d seen Ryder in just about every mood possible, but joyous was rare.

  She tapped Slater on the shoulder as they sat in the bleachers. “Isn’t roping a calf hard to learn?”

  His blue eyes flashed with humor. “I’m not sure. I think I was about five the first time I did it. In the Carson family it’s sort of like potty-training. You do that at a certain age, you learn to ride next and then you learn to rope a calf. Daisy’s quite good at it, too, but Ryder really caught on fast for someone who was raised in the city. He understands animals, so maybe you should nudge him toward a profession that involves a special talent like that. He’s too big to be a jockey, but what about horse-training? You can make a decent living at it.”

  It wasn’t on the usual list of professions, with doctor, lawyer and architect. But Ryder had warmed up to the environment at the ranch with more enthusiasm than anything in his life so far. “He’s still so young,” she murmured, “but it’s a thought. He seems happy. Just don’t suggest rodeo as a profession, okay?”

  He slipped his arm around her waist. “You’re in charge. I’m impressed that he pulled it off. Honestly, Grace, he just learned how to ride a horse!”

  Slater was as elated as any proud father. No wonder she’d fallen in love with him.

  For that matter, Drake, Mace and, of course, Red were all taking credit. Then the scores were announced—with Ryder getting an honorable mention, to tumultuous applause. But to Grace, his success was secondary to the fact that he was there, in her line of vision, safe and sound.

  She could finally lose the tightness in her throat. Maybe her blood pressure would return to normal in the next few hours.

  Hank was lucky he wasn’t anywhere close by.

  And the thing was, she knew he hadn’t done it on purpose. That was just typical Hank. It obviously hadn’t occurred to him to mention it in his note. It wouldn’t have occurred to him to come and watch his son participate in this event, either. She tried to picture him at a rodeo and found she didn’t have enough imagination for that one.

  However, she couldn’t complain about the tight-knit Carson family. Everyone had been willing to bring their busy lives to a halt, willing to pitch in and help, and that moved her. “Dinner at the ranch, instead?” Slater’s expression was sympathetic. “You still look pretty shaken, and everyone will want to celebrate with Ryder. Or would you prefer some peace and quiet? Either way is fine.”

  Slater was right; she wasn’t very interested in cooking at the moment, even something fairly simple. “Harry won’t mind?”

  “We’ve been through this before. She won’t, and trust me, if she did, she’d tell me flat out. Let me call and ask her. Cooking seems to be some sort of therapy for her. She probably roasted three chickens worrying over Ryder, and made a gallon of potato salad. Just a rough guess. Maybe two gallons. And we won’t speculate on des
sert.”

  This big, noisy family was fascinating to her. As he called, she leaned forward and kissed his jaw, and Slater turned to brush his mouth against hers. Ryder was pounding up the auditorium stairs just then, shouting for Red, Drake and Mace, and all hell broke loose with man-hand smacks and big grins.

  She was, after all, going to marry one of the Carson sons. So Grace stood up and joined in the bedlam and figured she was a lucky girl indeed.

  *

  HARRY WAS IN rare form, as Slater had predicted, and that was really saying something. She’d made chicken, but of the fried variety, because she’d learned that was Ryder’s favorite food, with milk gravy, her garlic mashed potatoes, the sweet corn she put up every season, homemade rolls…and for dessert that chocolate brownie pie thing that made Mace want to cry with happiness.

  Needless to say, all conversation came to a halt when the food arrived. Even Daisy stopped chattering. In true Blythe Carson style, this had turned into a full family dinner. She, Harry and Raine bustled around in the kitchen, carrying dishes to the table, refusing to let Grace help. Slater noticed that as she relaxed, her smile resurfaced, and both Drake, with his dry sense of humor, and Mace, who served his latest wine for everyone to sample, seemed particularly conscious of her mood, both smiling when her strained expression finally eased.

  They weren’t bad for younger brothers, he thought.

  No one had told Ryder yet that a full-on search, including law enforcement, had been launched. He was still on cloud number nine, and Slater had to admire that Grace hadn’t said a word about it so he could enjoy the moment. Maybe she never would, because there’d be implied criticism of his father and, as far he could tell, she tended to avoid any censure of Hank.

  Good for her. Especially since she was Ryder’s mother in every way except the biological. He was lucky that he and Raine got along so well—she was right across the table from him at the moment, laughing at something Mace had just said—but he’d always thought it was unfair when quarreling parents involved their children.