Rocky Mountain Romance (Six Pack Ranch Book 7)

by Vivian Arend

  And the too vanilla comment?

  Not fucking likely…

  The solitude of late-night chores had its place in knocking the edge off his bad attitude before, and he’d grown to appreciate the quiet moments to think.

  He parked outside the barn, taking his time to pause at the edge of the field, one boot up on the bottom rung of the fence as he leaned on the top rail. His dog, Prince, roamed by his feet, the well-trained animal checking the new scents placed since the last time they’d walked this path.

  The sun had already set behind the mountains, but the sky was filled with streaks of orange-lit clouds dotted with darker sections against the pale-blue summer sky. The same colour as Melody’s eyes—and memories swept in like a gust of wind, rustling through his mind and stirring up desire.

  Come hell or high water, by this weekend he’d find a way to get together with her.

  The sound of crickets and the occasional dove cooing were all that broke the silence as he paced forward to complete his chores.

  “Prince, stay.”

  The dog shuffled off to the side of the barn and found a place to wait.

  Walking through the doors of the barn was like entering a chapel. The familiar peaceful setting gave him a chance to refocus and put aside his plans for a moment.

  Only he wasn’t alone. His father stood in the corner, back toward him. Both his hands were pressed to the worktable surface, his back swayed, head hanging low, as if he was barely keeping himself vertical.

  Damn. “You okay?” Steve strode forward to join Randy at the bench.

  His father jerked in surprise before looking away. “Of course.”

  Steve hadn’t expected any other response. His dad could have both legs cut off and been bleeding out, and he still wouldn’t admit anything was wrong.

  Steve examined him closely. The older man’s face looked pale, a sheen of sweat covering his brow. “Like hell you’re okay.”

  His father tapped his fist against his chest, his face twisting into a grimace. “Just a little indigestion.”

  Oh, great, even better. Steve put a hand on his father’s shoulder. “Is that not one of the signs of a heart attack?”

  Randy turned away, leaning on the workbench. He spit to one side before folding his arms and looking disgruntled. “I’m fine—well, at least, I know I’m not having a heart attack. It’s this damn heartburn, and yes, it’s only heartburn—I got checked at the doctor last week when I went to town.”

  Steve eyed his father. The man’s solid frame showed little sign of softening after years of heavy labour. Maybe he was thicker around the middle, his hair now shot with grey, but Randy seemed the same no-nonsense, get-it-done man who’d guided his family over the years without ever raising his voice.

  It was hard to see him as something other than indestructible.

  “How come this is the first time I’ve heard of this?” Steve asked.

  Randy shrugged his broad shoulders. “Because it’s nothing,” he insisted before making another face. “Except I need to stop sneaking third helpings like your mother warned me.”

  “Ha.”

  His father lifted a finger in warning. “Don’t you tell her that I’m under the weather tonight—she’d just give me hell and then refuse to serve bacon for a month.”

  “It is one of the four major food groups,” Steve teased, moving into position to echo his father’s body language as the man leaned on the workbench with his arms across his chest.

  Steve stared into space, picking his words carefully. “Sucks to have to watch what you’re eating, but it sucks more to feel like hell.”

  “God, sometimes it feels like something’s trying to crawl out of my body,” his father confessed.

  Steve made a sympathetic noise. “You got anything to take for it?”

  “Yeah.” Disgust was clear in his voice. “Tastes like getting a mouthful on a windy day when we’re spreading fertilizer.”

  Steve laughed. “Well, at least it’s not some sugary sweet pink stuff that makes your tongue change colour.”

  “There is that,” Randy agreed. He glanced up quickly. “Don’t tell your mother,” he warned again. “I swear she gets a kick out of making me take a dose.”

  It took a lot to keep from laughing. Instead, Steve spoke cautiously, trying to be nonchalant. “In the meantime, let me know if I need to take over any extra duties.”

  Randy made a rude noise before reluctantly nodding his head. “If I have to. I just hate to be slowing down.”

  “Don’t think of it as slowing down.” Steve stepped away, heading toward the nearby stall. He leaned both arms on the top rail, admiring the mare that turned toward him, her belly swollen with the foal that would be arriving in a few weeks. “There’s always been too much to do everything by ourselves. That’s why we hire help on the side.”

  His father sighed. “Too much to do to sit on my ass and loaf.”

  “It’s not loafing to leave your least favourite tasks for us boys to deal with, however works best.” He patted the mare’s nose, stroking the white blaze on her forehead. Ignoring his father altogether as if he were not talking about making drastic changes in the man’s life. “Figured that’s part of the reason why you have sons. So you can get rid of the crap jobs and make us do them.”

  “You discovered my evil plan,” Randy confessed. He closed the space between them to lay a hand on Steve’s back. “You’ve grown up a lot in the last year.”

  The words thrilled him. Approval from this man meant the world to Steve. “This is where you’re supposed to say ‘and about damn time’, isn’t it?”

  “You’ve never been a pain in my butt, so it’s not as if you’ve become the most righteous son around. Just seems like there’s something a little more serious about you.” Randy patted him on the back. “I’m saying it looks good, that bit of responsibility.”

  His father walked away, closing the door behind him and leaving Steve to wonder how much of a change would really happen in terms of him lessening his load. His father could be very stubborn—one of the common traits found on most successful ranches.

  Although…knowing his dad was trying to pull a fast one on his mom? Steve laughed. Heck, if Randy was stubborn, Kate was twice as bad, probably from having to deal with her silent, unmovable ox of a husband for over thirty-five years. Odds were Kate would figure out something was up by the morning, and Randy’s little ploy to keep his rotten evening a secret would be over.

  Steve wasn’t a fortuneteller, but he was pretty sure another dose of the foul-tasting medicine was in his father’s future.

  He smiled as he grabbed a handful of oats for the horse, holding his hand steady to allow her to nibble the treat. As he finished his chores, his thoughts remained on his family. How much they were the same, how much they were different.

  His mom was far more outgoing and boisterous than the rest of them, but that backbone of steel was undeniably there. Heck, they all had it in their own way. Trevor joked more often, lighthearted and devil-may-care like Kate. Steve before deciding to grow up had been somewhere in the middle of his folks, joking one minute, laid-back and quiet the next. And Lee—

  His little brother was the quiet rock. Somehow he’d reached the ripe old age of twenty-three without anyone squashing his notion that he was smarter than most of them. Hell, maybe he was. Steve rarely won a debate when they did get into a disagreement.

  And the most annoying part was Lee wasn’t rude about it. Nope, he’d politely listen to them plan and organize, make a few suggestions, but never outright argue. If he didn’t agree with whatever was decided in the end? He’d nod and then just damn well go do what he thought was right.

  The winner in their family, though, had to be Steve’s sister—the only one not working the ranch. Anna had fought for everything she’d gotten as an RCMP officer, finding respect in the community as a woman in a traditional male role.

  Steve paused for a moment as he realized in some ways Melody had done t
he same thing. A lady veterinarian dealing with small animals wasn’t unusual, but for the large-animal work, she should have lacked the strength. Yet before she’d gone back to school, she’d often been the one to come along and work at Mathis’s side.

  Suddenly a little more about Melody became clear.

  He headed out of the barn to the corral, not wanting to lose this thought. Climbed up on one of the railings and watched the cattle in the distance silhouetted against the hazy red sky as Prince stood before him, tail wagging wildly.

  Maybe he’d been going about this all wrong.

  He’d changed—he was sure of that. But maybe Melody hadn’t changed so much as simply continued to be herself. Someone he’d never bothered to get to know other than on the surface. He needed to come to understand the real her.

  The thought excited him. This weekend, no matter what, he was going to catch up with Melody. Get an answer from her—and the only acceptable answer was yes, and then he’d make sure she knew he was able and willing to be there for her in a way that he’d never been before.

  This time? He wasn’t going to fuck it up.

  Travis willingly held the ancient horse’s hoof for her, locking him in position as Melody finished the awkward chore of stitching a cut on the old-timer’s leg.

  “It’s good to have you back,” Travis noted, switching position and lowering the horse’s leg as she put away her tools.

  “It’s good to be back.” She gave the horse’s rump a pat and sent him into the yard. “Been fun this week, going to familiar places and catching up with some of my old patients. Other than that little run-in with the fencing, looks as if Blaze is having a good retirement.”

  Travis passed over the flannel shirt she’d removed while working, too hot in the late-afternoon sunshine with all her layers. His grin flashed just as quickly as the previous year. He was the same handsome devil she remembered flirting with her before she’d left. Only there was something different to his attitude—a bit of reserve?

  Contentment?

  “The good thing about your patients is they can’t taunt you about sticking the needle into the wrong part of their hindquarters.”

  “I’d never do anything like that,” she protested. “That was Mathis who gave your dad an errant shot the one time.”

  “We’ll never let him forget it.”

  That was the truth as well. Nothing that went wrong was ever forgotten. She pulled her arms through the sleeves of her shirt and buttoned the front over her tank top. “Rumour says you’ve settled down.”

  His grin got wider. “This time rumour is right. Hey, that reminds me. Can you stop by the old barn for a minute before you leave? Ashley’s gone and adopted a dog we rescued, and she’s all worried about the beast getting treated right.”

  “No problem,” Melody said as they made their way toward her borrowed truck. “Did you want to bring him into the clinic for a checkup?”

  Travis shook his head. “We did that already, because Ashley is nothing if not determined. There’s nothing wrong with the beast.”

  Only his tone of voice said differently. “What are you not telling me?”

  He shrugged. “Convincing Ashley the dog belongs outside is taking more effort than I thought humanly possible.”

  “Stubborn?”

  “You wouldn’t believe it.”

  Melody laughed. “Oh, this I like. A woman who Travis Coleman calls stubborn? I seem to remember you standing in one spot and refusing to move for nearly an hour after your father gave you hell for fidgeting in the middle of a job.”

  His cocky grin faded, and damn if the man didn’t look self-conscious. “How do you know about that?”

  “Other than we live in a small town, and everything is open to discussion at every moment of our lives? I was there, don’t you remember?”

  Travis’s face furled with concentration. “I could’ve sworn…”

  “Trust me, this happens a lot,” Melody said as he opened the door of the converted old barn behind their house. “As a vet, I find that quite often people forget that I’m around.”

  He gestured her forward. “Well, you are a lot older than me. I was far too shy to make a move on you.”

  “Someone’s looking for a butt kicking,” a feminine voice sang out from the top of the stairs. Melody glanced up to see Ashley leaning over the edge of the railing, glaring at Travis. “Number one, you’re a lying bastard because the words ‘I’m shy’ just escaped your mouth. You’ve never been shy. You weren’t shy on the day you were born. You probably hit on the nurses in the delivery room.”

  They reached the top of the stairs, and Travis went to wrap his arms around Ashley and give her a quick kiss, tweaking her nose as he stepped back. “That’s my job. To bring sunshine and joy to people’s lives.”

  “And secondly,” Ashley continued as she made a face at him, “telling a woman they’re a lot older than you is not the way to get ahead in the world. It’s not a good way to continue breathing.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind,” Melody hurried to reassure her. “There’s gotta be—what, three, maybe four years between us? And I’ve been in town at most for three and a half?”

  Ashley’s smile brightened as she did the math. “And you remember him pulling a hissy fit?” She glanced over at a far more sheepish Travis. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself. That means you were at least twenty-three, and acting like a jackass.”

  “He’s twenty-six now, and still acting like a jackass,” another voice joined in as Cassidy appeared at the top of the stairwell. He dipped his blond head in Melody’s direction. “Good to see you. Thanks for looking after the horses.”

  Ashley rushed forward and caught hold of Melody’s arm. “And now she’s here to see my dog, right? So you two just go do something else.”

  She waved them off with her hand, tugging Melody toward the corner of the room.

  “Ashley,” Cassidy chided. “Did you sneak that dog upstairs again?”

  There was no way for Ashley to hide her answer, not when a pair of sleepy eyes peered out of the box in the corner of the room, puppy whimpers clearly audible in the moment of condemning silence.

  Melody knelt to press a hand over the golden retriever’s tiny head. “What a pretty coat. What are you calling him?”

  “Lucky.”

  She did a quick exam while pretending to pet the dog, but it was obvious the thing was small but healthy. “He seems little to have already been weaned.”

  “The mom didn’t make it,” Cassidy said quietly. “We found him at one of the outbuildings near the forestry reserve. Something must’ve attacked her and the litter, and this was the only one that survived.”

  “And that’s why I need to take care of him,” Ashley insisted.

  Travis sighed. This was obviously not the first time they’d had this discussion. “Dogs don’t belong in the house. Dogs belong outside.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because that’s the way it is.”

  Ashley’s brow rose. “That’s not a good enough reason.”

  “But that’s the way it’s always been,” Cassidy added.

  She narrowed her gaze, taking in both of the men standing before her. Their arms folded over their chests, expressions stern. “Oh, of course. Because we all know that everything in the world stays exactly the same for good reason. Nobody in this family ever colours outside the lines, right?” she asked sarcastically.

  Melody could see a point go up on the scoreboard for Ashley after that one.

  The guys scrambled to try a different tack. “Dane stays outside,” Travis pointed out. “You don’t seem to have a problem with my dog sleeping outside in all sorts of weather.”

  “He’s a working dog. He needs to be outside to do his job. Lucky is a cuddle dog. He needs to be inside to do his.”

  Not that Melody wanted to get into the middle of what was the cutest domestic dilemma she’d seen in a long time, but she had to admit she felt for both sides. She did enough
work with small animals to know that pets were part of family in ways that ranch dogs never were.

  Ranch dogs were loved in different ways, for different reasons, but sometimes choices had to be made.

  Melody thought she had the solution. “You’re right, Ashley. There’s no reason why Lucky can’t live inside the house.”

  Cassidy and Travis both looked at her as if she’d just committed high treason even as Ashley lit up like a Christmas tree.

  Melody continued quickly before one of the guys said something and ruined her plans. “If you’re going to have him as a house pet, though, you’ll need to have him only as a house pet. That means when he needs to be taken for a walk, you put him on a leash and make sure you keep him away from the farm animals and the other dogs.”

  Ashley’s face folded into a frown. “But he’ll be lonely. You mean that? He can’t play with the other dogs?”

  “He’ll have you to play with,” Melody said. “The trouble is, inside dogs get privileges that outside dogs don’t—sleeping on beds, licking people. There are germs we don’t want to carry from the ranch into the house, and the other way around. That’s why we take off our boots and wash our hands a lot. I’m sure you understand.”

  Cassidy and Travis were both holding their breath.

  The dog picked that moment to stand on his hind legs and paw at the edge of the box, tipping over sideways as he lost his balance. Melody helped him regain his feet, and the little thing licked her enthusiastically.

  “He’s too little to live outside,” Ashley protested, but she wasn’t as adamant this time.

  Melody considered for a moment. “Not really. He’s old enough to have been weaned, so what’s most important now is finding him a safe place where he won’t get hurt until he gets a little bigger.”

  “There’s a spot in the barn where the dogs bed down,” Cassidy offered. “I can take you there and you can help make a special nest for him.”