A Rancher to Love

by Trish Milburn

  Come on, get a grip.

  He waited for Maddie to step inside, too, then entered, closing the door behind him.

  “The laundry room is this way,” he said, leading the way into the kitchen, then pointing at the door on the opposite side of the room. “And if you want to take a shower, you can use the bathroom at the top of the stairs.”

  Leah glanced toward him. She smiled, but there was definitely a touch of wariness about it. A wariness he very much wanted to erase.

  * * *

  LEAH’S MIND BALKED at the side of the kitchen nearest the front door, her closest route of escape. Did she dare step farther into Tyler’s house?

  She did her best to keep her fearful imagination from galloping off like a runaway horse as it had the night she’d almost hit the deer. Tyler had given her no reason to suspect he would hurt her. Quite the opposite. All her interactions with him spun through her head like highlight clips from a movie—

  How he’d helped her the night she’d injured herself, his confession about his sister, the gentle way he had with Maddie, helping her with the flooding caused by the busted water heater.

  The truth was if she wanted to get past the attack, she had to learn to trust again. To not see potential danger in everyone with a Y chromosome.

  “Thank you,” she finally said and carried her laundry to the room he’d indicated. She wondered if she’d telegraphed her fear because Tyler stayed on the opposite side of kitchen, not crowding her in the small laundry room.

  If she was going to take a shower—and she could use one considering her current state—she needed to wait to start her laundry. She grabbed her clean clothes and retraced her steps.

  She offered Tyler a small smile as she passed back through the kitchen on the way to the stairs and hoped it didn’t reveal how nervous she was to be here.

  Maddie met her at the top of the stairs, a folded white towel in her hands. She provided a blessed distraction, allowing the spinning in Leah’s head to slow.

  “You can use my shampoo,” Maddie said. “It’s in the shower.”

  “Thank you, sweetie.” She gently gripped the little girl’s shoulder for a moment before heading into the bathroom.

  Once inside, she locked the door and stared at her bedraggled appearance in the mirror. Wow, she certainly was a sight, and not a pretty one. Her hair was plastered to her head like seaweed, and her clothing didn’t look much better. She listened to the sounds of Tyler moving around downstairs and shivered at the idea of even taking off her clothes under the same roof. And for a moment, she wondered if part of the reason had nothing to do with her attack. The spinning started up again, this time in her stomach. She pressed her hand against her middle as if that would somehow stop it.

  Her feelings toward Tyler felt like strands of spaghetti all twisted together. He was a man, a big one, and so the frightened part of her still worried he posed a threat. But she suspected that was simply a post-traumatic reaction, the primal need for survival trying to usurp her common sense, which was telling her he wouldn’t hurt her. Mixed up with all that was the fact that every day she seemed to think about him more—those glacial blue eyes, the tender way he’d held her the night she’d fallen despite how much brute strength he no doubt had at his disposal, the way his smile seemed to erase all the worry she saw him carrying around like an invisible sack of grain on his back.

  If she could just take off her clothes, step into that shower, it’d be another important step on the road to her recovery. She continued to stare at herself in the mirror for at least another minute while the argument between her two halves continued in her head.

  “Just stop it,” she hissed at herself, then yanked her T-shirt over her head and dropped it with a damp splat on the floor.

  When she stepped under the warm flow of water, she reached for the bottle of shampoo on the side of the tub. She expected a bottle decorated by some cartoon character. Instead, it was regular shampoo that didn’t smell remotely girlie at all. In fact, she suspected it was an extra bottle of the kind she’d find in Tyler’s bathroom. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at that realization.

  It drove home, strangely more than anything else, that she wasn’t the only person in the world dealing with hard times. Yes, her skin still crawled every time she thought of that night, of Garton’s hands on her, but it could have been worse. He hadn’t killed her. He hadn’t raped her.

  She had parents who loved her, had always been there for her. Conner had helped her without hesitation, and she knew her aunt and uncle cared about her welfare, too. She couldn’t fathom her own mother not wanting her anymore, leaving her without a backward glance. And she couldn’t imagine suddenly being thrust into the parenting role for a traumatized child with no one to help.

  Leah realized tears were mixing with the water from the shower. Her heart ached for Maddie and for Tyler. She wished there was something she could do to help them other than simply spending a bit of time with Maddie.

  She stayed in the shower longer than she should have, but she wanted evidence of her crying to fade before she went back downstairs. How would she explain red, puffy eyes? A busted water heater didn’t seem like a plausible, sane reason. Crying over their situation seemed perhaps too much, too soon. And she certainly didn’t plan to share her own story. She didn’t want to see the look in Tyler’s eyes she’d seen in her mother’s: that suddenly Leah was a fragile little bird who had to be handled with a delicate hand.

  After she was finished in the bathroom, Leah headed toward the stairs. As she reached them, she glanced to her left and saw Maddie in her room having a conversation with her stuffed puppy. She was so engrossed that she didn’t notice Leah. Captivated by the pure innocence of the scene, Leah couldn’t help watching for a bit longer.

  Something made Maddie look up. When she saw Leah, she smiled, hopped to her feet and stepped out into the hall, bringing her puppy with her.

  “Do you want your cookies now?”

  Leah returned her smile. “That sounds good.”

  Maddie led the way down the stairs, holding on to the handrail with one hand and clutching her puppy with the other. As Leah watched Maddie, it was strange to think she had been that small once. She tried to remember what the world had looked like to her at that age and couldn’t.

  After Leah took a minute to start her load of wet laundry, she returned to the kitchen just as Tyler was getting off the phone.

  “Good news,” he said. “I can get a new water heater tomorrow, the last one they have at the hardware in town.”

  “I’m sorry to add to your workload.”

  “No need to apologize. Water heaters die.” He glanced toward the laundry room door, which she’d closed to keep out the noise. “Since you’ve got to wait for your clothes, how about some dinner?”

  “Tyler, I can go back to the bunkhouse and eat, then come back for my laundry.”

  “But you have to eat your cookies,” Maddie said, sounding worried, as though Leah had forgotten.

  Tyler smiled as he looked at his niece, a look so full of love that Leah’s admiration of him seemed to grow tenfold in the space of a single heartbeat.

  “There is that.” Tyler looked at Leah, trying but failing to hide a smile, one that said he was confident he’d win this mini war. “You could have the cookies as dessert, after dinner.”

  Though Maddie didn’t say anything, Leah could tell from the girl’s hopeful expression that she wanted her to stay, as well.

  “Okay, but you have to let me help.”

  “Deal.”

  The way Tyler looked at her before he turned to open the refrigerator made giddy little bubbles pop throughout Leah’s body. She forced herself to take a deep breath, quietly, before she moved to help him prepare dinner.

  By the time she tossed her laundry into the dryer, the
y were ready to sit down to a meal of pork chops, green beans and salad. As Leah filled her plate, she searched for a topic of conversation.

  “So, Maddie, I didn’t see you earlier today. What were you and your uncle up to?”

  “We went to school and then bought stuff for school, and coloring books and crayons.”

  “That does sound like a busy day. School, huh?”

  “Yes, Miss Maddie starts kindergarten on Monday,” Tyler said.

  “Are you excited?” Leah asked her.

  Maddie took a moment to consider her answer, like she seemed to do with most questions. “I think so.”

  Leah suspected the prospect of not only starting school but also being in a place she didn’t know any other children was scary. “I bet you are the smartest kid in the class.”

  As Leah cut off a bite-size piece of her pork chop, she caught Tyler watching her. He didn’t immediately look away as someone might when caught staring. It reawakened the spinning in her middle, which felt as if it had multiplied and spread to all parts of her body, even some she didn’t want to think about, not with a child at the table. When he finally broke eye contact, she thought she detected a slight jolt pass through him as if he’d realized too late that she’d caught him staring. Or maybe he’d surprised himself by staring at all. Could he be experiencing the same attraction as well as the same wariness of acknowledging it?

  As they finished the meal, Leah couldn’t stop thinking about how to an outside observer they might look like a family having dinner together. She was surprised by how much that image appealed to her. It was enough to make her wonder if she’d cracked her head on the pavement when she’d fallen at the end of the driveway. But though she was still nursing aches from her twin falls, her head wasn’t among them.

  No, somehow a door to part of her heart had opened to admit this man and his sweet niece. If she were to share what she was feeling with her parents, Conner, even Reina, she suspected they might believe it a result of her ordeal. Even she wondered if these feelings of tenderness and desire to connect were because her heart and soul were looking for something positive, something reassuring, something healing. How could she be sure what she was feeling was real, however improbable that might be, or simply a means to an emotional end?

  Maddie slid the bakery bag toward Leah, pulling her away from all the questions blazing a path through her mind.

  “Thank you for these,” Leah said. “Don’t you have a cookie?”

  Tyler leaned back in his chair. “This one had her cookie eaten before we even got out of town.”

  He obviously meant his words as teasing, but Leah saw something pass over Maddie’s face that her uncle didn’t. She knew that look, had worn it herself countless times in recent weeks. But why would Maddie be scared now? Regardless of the reason, the need to comfort her overrode everything else. She placed her hand atop Maddie’s and gently squeezed.

  “That’s okay. Sometimes you just can’t wait to eat a good cookie.” Leah took a bite of her own and didn’t have to fake her enjoyment of it. Keri Teague was a talented baker, and everyone in town and probably for miles in all directions knew it.

  Leah ate one of her cookies, then told Maddie she was going to save the other one for later. She helped Tyler clear the table, carrying the dishes to the sink. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if they were a real family and had shared this task countless times before, they stood side by side, Tyler washing the dishes and Leah rinsing and placing them in the drainer.

  Tyler extended the final plate to her, and when she reached for it their fingers grazed each other. It was over in a moment, but the touch rocketed up her arm to explode like fireworks all throughout her body. What was going on? She barely knew Tyler. And after what she’d suffered, how did the intensity of her attraction make any sense? She tried to pretend she hadn’t noticed, but she sensed Tyler stiffen beside her and heard the slight hitch in his breath. It wasn’t just her having these strange and unexpected reactions, and that scared her more than if she’d been alone in them.

  Tyler grabbed a towel and dried his hands. “I think it’s someone’s bedtime,” he said as he turned toward the table.

  Leah expected Maddie to beg for more time, that she wasn’t tired, but she didn’t. Of course, Maddie wasn’t like most children. Leah thought back to the look she’d seen on the girl’s face earlier and wished she could ask her about it.

  “Do you know any bedtime stories, Leah?”

  “I could tell you a story.” The hope in Tyler’s voice nearly broke Leah’s heart, and it was only compounded when she saw the way the light dimmed ever so slightly in Maddie’s eyes.

  Leah glanced at Tyler and saw that he’d witnessed it, as well. What had changed since she’d seen niece and uncle walking hand in hand earlier? Maybe if she could talk to Maddie alone, she could find out the answer to the perplexing question, help these two grow closer.

  “I might know a story or two,” she said. “If that’s okay with your uncle.”

  When Tyler nodded, Leah had to resist the urge to go to him, to tell him to just give Maddie time, that his niece would eventually shed her caution. But she shouldn’t promise something she couldn’t be certain would happen.

  Tyler’s gaze caught hers for a moment before she ushered Maddie toward the stairs. Leah suspected her willingness to tell bedtime stories might have just as much to do with Tyler as it did Maddie. After that moment at the sink and how her nerves had sizzled when she caught him staring at her, she wasn’t sure she should be alone with Tyler. And it wasn’t him she didn’t trust. It was herself.

  Chapter Nine

  Leah told Maddie a story she made up as she went, about a little princess who lived in a tower room and whose best friend was a talking baby bear. While Maddie seemed to enjoy the story, Leah could tell something still weighed on her young mind. She captured one of Maddie’s hands and pressed it gently between hers.

  “Honey, can you tell me what is troubling you?”

  Maddie glanced toward the door, almost as if she expected to see a monster come to life there. “I don’t want to make Uncle Tyler mad.”

  Leah’s heart froze. Was she wrong about Tyler? Could he be cruel and very good at hiding it?

  Keeping her voice low, she asked, “Has he hurt you?”

  How quickly Maddie shook her head eased Leah’s worry, but something still wasn’t right.

  “Has he yelled at you? Threatened to punish you?”

  “No.”

  Keeping her voice gentle, Leah asked, “Why do you think he’d be mad at you?”

  Maddie shrugged, but unshed tears shone in her pretty blue eyes.

  “Does this have something to do with your mom?”

  “She got mad and didn’t want me anymore.”

  Leah was not a violent person by nature, and recent events made her loathe violence even more. But in that moment, she thought she might be able to ignore her aversion and do Kendra bodily harm.

  “Maddie, honey, did your mother hurt you?”

  The child looked as if she wasn’t sure she should answer.

  “I promise you won’t get into trouble if you tell me. You’re safe here.”

  “Mark, that’s Mom’s boyfriend, told her I cost too much, to give me away.”

  Anger like she’d never felt in her entire life burst into an inferno inside Leah, but she did her best to hide that from Maddie. The last thing the girl needed was to be scared of another adult.

  “He shouldn’t have said that. It’s not true. And you know what else?”

  Maddie shook her head on her pillow.

  “Your uncle won’t let anything bad happen to you. He loves you.”

  “He does?” Maddie sounded as if she wasn’t sure Leah was telling her the truth. Maybe she was afraid to believe it,
afraid she’d be hurt again.

  Leah nodded. She heard the creak of the stairs but didn’t let on to Maddie that her uncle was right outside. Leah wondered how much he’d heard.

  “Are you sure?” Maddie asked, a tentative hope in her voice.

  “Positive. I can see it in his eyes. And eyes don’t lie.”

  After Leah said that, she sensed the anxiety inside Maddie ease. And as Leah told her one more tale of the princess and her pet bear, Maddie fell asleep.

  Leah didn’t immediately leave the bedroom, which she suspected from the decor had once been Kendra’s. Instead, she sat on the side of the bed and watched Maddie fall deeper into sleep. Only when she was certain she wouldn’t wake her by moving did she ease Maddie’s hand onto the summer quilt under which the girl slept, and quietly left the room.

  She was careful with her steps down the stairs, not wanting them to creak any more than stairs in an older house had to. When she reached the lower level, she didn’t see Tyler anywhere. Thinking he might have gone outside to check on the horses, she stepped out the front door. She found him pacing the porch, and in the dark he was even more imposing. Fighting her gut reaction to go back inside or make for the bunkhouse, she turned to face him. Even in the dim light coming from inside the house, she was able to see the anger on his face. It told her what she’d suspected.

  “You heard everything?”

  “How can someone do that to their own child?”

  His raised voice made Leah take a step back. She understood his anger, but having it come from someone so much larger than her, a man, unnerved her.

  Tyler noticed and stopped his pacing. “I’m sorry. I’m just so...” He wiped his hand down over his face, which reflected an agony she wished she could soothe. “I feel like such a failure. My niece is afraid to even talk to me. I wasn’t able to keep my sister from destroying her own life.”

  Leah couldn’t stand the raw pain she heard in his voice and closed the distance between them. Though she shook as she placed her hand on his arm.