Leave It to Chance

by Sherri Sand

  She cleared her throat. “I don’t want him pulled between us. He looks up to you so much—”

  He leaned back and finished. “And you think I’m going to undermine you.” His eyes were direct. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

  She gave a small nod and clenched her hands tightly in her lap.

  “Then you don’t understand who I am.”

  Ross drove her back to Sid’s. She stared out the side window until he pulled up next to her van and shut off the engine. She reached for the door, but his words stopped her. “Braden told me what’s going on with his dad. He needs someone to talk to and I like being there for him. Who else does he have?”

  She looked fragile and unsure, the dark snapping eyes from breakfast now deep pools of uncertainty. Her confidence had gone soft, like cardboard planter boxes after a soaking rain.

  He didn’t want her to misunderstand. “Sierra, he needs you, but he’s trying to fill the man-sized shoes his dad left behind. His instinct is to protect you.”

  She looked away and quickly swiped at her nose, as if she’d had an itch instead of an urge to cry. He braced his arms across the steering wheel. “Sierra, look at me.”

  Those eyes nearly knocked him back. Cinnamon-tea colored, wet and lost. “You’ve done a great job of raising Braden. But you are only one person. You aren’t designed to be everything he needs. When a boy looks to his mom for every answer, he won’t learn how to be a man.”

  That comment straightened her back. She gave him a scowl of disagreement. “He’s not a mama’s boy.”

  “Not yet.”

  She started to argue but broke eye contact and looked through the windshield instead, the starch deserting her expression.

  He touched her arm. “It doesn’t mean he won’t need you.”

  “I know that.” She moved her arm away.

  He opened the truck door and got out to check on Traitor. She shut the passenger door and walked toward her van. “What are you going to do when Sid comes home?” she asked.

  The thought hadn’t left him since Sid went into surgery. “I’ll figure it out.”

  Tuesday afternoon, Sierra unlocked the front door, then grabbed two of her Mom’s suitcases and pushed the door wider with her foot. Braden ran up and squeezed in past her.

  He turned the TV on and flopped on the couch.

  “Honey, go help Grandma with her bags.

  He scowled and dragged himself off the couch. “Geez. You make me do everything.”

  Her mom followed her up the stairs where she set the luggage on the floor, her back to Sierra. “Braden and Emory sure don’t seem very happy to see their grandma.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I don’t think they had a very good weekend at their dad’s.” And she hadn’t let Braden work with Ross since their talk.

  Her mom held up a hand. “You don’t want to hear, so I’m not going to say it.”

  Sierra gave her a soft smile. “Thank y—”

  “But that man is going to ruin those kids if he doesn’t get his act together.”

  The weight of her mom’s words pressed down on her. “I know, but—”

  “You need to do something, Sierra.” She shook her head. “The disrespect you’re getting … it wasn’t like that when I was raising you and Win. It wasn’t tolerated the way it is nowadays.”

  “Mom, please don’t scold the kids. They’re having a hard enough time as it is.”

  Her mom raised both hands, disapproval deepening the lines around her mouth. “I won’t interfere. I’m just the grandma.”

  Sierra knew that look. Her mom’s feelings were hurt. She reached over and gave her mom a small hug. “I’m glad you’re back.”

  Her mom sniffed. “At least you and Trevor are glad.”

  Sid beat the odds and came home Thursday morning. Kyle stopped by just as Ross attempted to drag the wheelchair backward through the gravel to the rear porch. He’d tried pushing it, but after nearly dumping Sid on his face, he’d turned it around. Sid gripped the armrests as if he was on a terrorizing fair ride.

  Kyle added his muscle to the front and they got it to the house in short order. With Sid settled on the couch and a blanket tucked around his legs, Kyle beamed his thousand-watt smile. “How’s it going Sid?”

  Sid scowled in Ross’s direction. “Shoulda just had them put me down. Woulda saved Ross the trouble of trying to end my life in the driveway.”

  Ross scowled right back at the skinny old man. “Well, maybe if you’d lay off the pot roast, the tires wouldn’t have dug in. It was like pushing a cement truck through mud.”

  Kyle laughed. “If you two can keep from killing each other for a moment, I’ll be right back.” He headed outside and returned with two KFC bags. Minutes later he handed Sid a steaming plate piled with chicken and mashed potatoes.

  “’Bout time somebody thought of food. A man could starve around here.”

  Ross felt the muscles across his shoulders tighten. “We’ve been home five minutes, Sid.”

  Whatever Sid wanted to say was garbled around his next bite.

  Kyle caught Ross’s eye, his raised eyebrows asking the question.

  Ross answered. “Sid doesn’t want any more pain medication.”

  Sid touched his stomach protectively. “It makes me nauseous.”

  Ross grumbled. “I’d take nauseous over constant bellyaching.”

  Sid waved a drumstick at him, grease making the whiskers around his mouth shine. “Doc Evans said one of the side effects is ulcers.”

  Ross raised his hands. “If you take them for a year. He said you wouldn’t have any problem taking them for the next month.”

  Sid shook his head, growling low in his throat, his fork digging rifts into the potatoes and white gravy. “I don’t trust them doctors.”

  Ross headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. He loved the man dearly, but if he stayed in the same room with him much longer, Kyle would be digging his grave.

  Kyle joined him. “Do you think he’ll take the medicine?”

  “Nope.” Ross drained the glass. “He left all the prescriptions on the hospital bed.”

  Kyle’s face twisted in a rare grimace. “How are you going to handle this?”

  Ross leaned back against the sink. “If I make it through this, I’ll be eligible for sainthood. If I were Catholic, that is.”

  Kyle chuckled. “Father Ross. Has a nice ring to it.”

  “Right now Calcutta sounds like a spot I’d like to send Sid.”

  Kyle’s eyes widened the way they did when he thought he had a brilliant idea. “Hey, what about Sierra?”

  Ross tried to ignore how his forearms retained the memory of holding her against his chest. The warmth of her breath on his neck. He shifted position. “What about Sierra?”

  The grin grew. “She could watch Sid. Cook for him. Clean. And humor his cantankerous old self.”

  Ross knew Sid and he couldn’t help the half-grin that slid into place. “Right. Like that little old man out there is going to let some woman fuss over him.”

  Kyle sucked on his bottom lip and nodded his head with confidence. “He will. Watch.”

  Ross looked straight at his cousin, who was like a brother to him, and the smile left his face. “Wait!” No way would he let Sierra encroach further into his life. It was hard enough keeping her out of his thoughts with her at his barn. He didn’t need her at Sid’s place too.

  Kyle sprang for the living room. “Hey, Sid. Have you hired a housekeeper yet?”

  Ross charged after him. “Kyle—”

  Sid sputtered, trying to form a cohesive sentence. “A housekeeper? That’ll be the day. No woman is going to run my house. You can get that corn-fed notion out of your head.”

  “I mean to take care of you while you get well.”

  “I don’t need no woman helpin’ me while I convalesce.” It took him a moment to get his mouth around the corners of the word. Sid skewered Kyle with a look.

  “I think you should have Sierra s
tay with you until you’re back on your feet.” Kyle’s statement rocked Ross’s equilibrium.

  Sid’s eyebrows nearly reached the gray peak of his receding hairline. “What?”

  Kyle held up a hand. “Sid, you’re going to need a lot of help before you’re out in the barn again, and I don’t think Ross has much experience in caring for cantankerous old coots.”

  Sid nearly bellowed the words. “And what makes you think she does?”

  “She has kids.”

  Sid shot him a grizzled look. “Now, don’t you boys go aplottin’ things that cain’t be. I won’t go for some woman cookin’ in my kitchen and telling me what to do.”

  Ross caught the grin Kyle threw him. “You think you could survive on Ross’s cooking?”

  Sid blustered. “Well, I … well, you got a point there. But there’s always canned food. Ross could manage that.” Sid slid him a sly look. “If I walk him through it.”

  “But Ross works,” Kyle reminded him. “And with that Cranwell job he’s been complaining about he won’t be around enough to help you.”

  But was it wise to have Sierra so close? Ross dropped onto the recliner. He didn’t like how he’d started thinking about the woman at odd times. Like yesterday when he’d been planting a flowering pear. That was when he realized he was leaning on his shovel over an eighteen-inch hole wondering if Sierra ever cried in her ex-husband’s arms the way she did his.

  Definitely not good for business or his peace of mind.

  Ross used his firmest tone. “Sid doesn’t need kids underfoot when he’s trying to get well.”

  Kyle looked at Ross in surprise. “What else are you going to do? You don’t have the time.” He winked at the older man. “Sid can afford it, can’t you, Sid?”

  “I had you boys underfoot for years. Don’t think I can’t handle a couple of turnips still growing in the garden.”

  Kyle settled back in the loveseat as if it was a done deal. “From what I’ve seen she’s a good mom. I don’t think the kids will be a problem.” He gripped the arm of the sofa and straightened as if a thought had fired into his brain. “Ross, you could always ask Clorinda if she’s free to stay here with Sid all day. Heck, I bet she’d do it for free.”

  Clorinda was an older widow who’d moved into a neighboring house a couple of years earlier. She’d been alone for years and seemed set on a course to alter that fact. And that course was aimed straight toward Sid.

  Ross leaned forward with a laugh. “I think Clorinda would be just the person to get Sid up and running again.”

  “Runnin’ for my life would be more like it.” Sid shuddered deeper into the sofa. “I think maybe Sierra and I will get along tolerably well, but just during the day. I don’t need her tucking me in like a baby. I got ol’ Ross here to do that.”

  Sierra leaned her hip against her mom’s kitchen counter, coffee brewing as she waited for Ross to arrive. Two mugs waited on a tray.

  Her cell rang and she jumped to grab it. Elise’s number showed on the screen. “Hi.”

  “Is he there yet?”

  Sierra bit her lip. “No.”

  “What do you think he wants to talk about?”

  Sierra laughed, but it came out nervous sounding. “I don’t know.”

  “How’d he sound on the phone?”

  “Fine. Normal.”

  “Warm?”

  Sierra thought back to when Ross called that morning. “Mmm, kinda. More reserved.”

  “I still can’t believe you told him to stay away from Braden.”

  “I told him I didn’t want Braden working for him. I just—I don’t want Braden to get attached and then hurt, like with Michael.”

  “And …?”

  Sierra scrunched her eyes closed, and the words rushed out. “I thought he’d pull Braden away from me.”

  “Good girl. Now explain it just like that.”

  “I don’t know if I can, Elise.”

  “Hon, he’s a good man. Do you want me to come hold your hand while you talk to him?”

  “No!”

  Elise’s tinkling laughter came through the phone.

  Sierra heard the crunch of tires on gravel. “He’s here. I gotta go.”

  Chapter 17

  She heard Braden’s heavy tread pound down the stairs, excitement in his voice as he called out. “Ross is here.” His bedroom looked out over the driveway. He stopped at the kitchen, one bright brown eye smiling at her, every muscle in his body wired to spring for the door. “Did you know he was coming?”

  Sierra nodded. He didn’t wait for more, and she followed him to the living room.

  Braden held the door wide. “Hi, Ross.”

  “Hey, buddy.” Ross, in denim jeans and a dark green sweater, mussed Braden’s hair with a gentle rub to the top of his head, then tipped up her son’s chin and eyed the patch. “Hey, is this for Halloween?”

  Braden glanced back at her, a shy grin covering his embarrassment. “It’s an eye patch from the doctor. But I’m going to be a pirate.” His words accelerated in speed and excitement. “Do you need me tomorrow? I can come after school.”

  Ross looked at Sierra and paused before capturing Braden in his dark gaze again. “Probably not tomorrow.”

  Braden’s shoulders dropped. “Awww.” But he said it with a grin. “Can I come back with you to feed Chance? Mom hasn’t done it yet.”

  Ross gave him a sad half-smile. “Not tonight, buddy.”

  Sierra touched Braden’s shoulder. “Honey, why don’t you go work on your homework while Ross and I chat for a minute?”

  Braden rolled his eyes. “I hate homework.”

  Ross grinned at him. “How are you going to get into college without it?”

  “I know, I know. You already told me.”

  Ross gripped Braden’s shoulders and rocked her son back and forth. The kind of affection men give boys. “I need to talk to your mom.”

  Braden pounded back up the stairs, and Sierra swung around to Ross. “You’ve talked to him about college?”

  He shrugged with a glance around the living room. “Some.”

  This could be harder than she and Elise thought. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “Please.” He put his hands in his pockets.

  “Sit anywhere. I’ll be right back.” Her heart was thudding as she entered the kitchen and assembled the tray. She took a deep breath and returned to the living room, setting the tray on the coffee table.

  Ross lifted the carafe and held it over her mug with a raised brow. She nodded and he poured her a cup.

  “Thank you.” She settled into the recliner and took a sip of the brew, feeling her cheeks heat. She did not want to have this conversation. Maybe Elise could come in through the back door and duck behind the recliner to hold her hand.

  He sank back onto the sofa with his mug. “Sierra—”

  “Ross, I need—”

  The slight smile was polite. “Go ahead.”

  She gripped the mug with both hands, her fingers cold though the room was warm. “I need to apologize.”

  He looked toward the window, his jawline firm. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

  Her words were soft but definite. “Yes, there is.”

  He angled his head back toward her, his eyes as unreadable as his face.

  “Ross, I love my son so much and,” she looked down, “I’m scared to death I’m going to lose him. He’s angry and looking for someone to follow who isn’t his mother or father.” She let her gaze find his. “It’s you. You have my son’s admiration and his heart.”

  The warmth of the cup started to seep into her fingers. “You’re right that I want to control aspects of his life that I can’t. It’s hard to let go.”

  His eyes held hers long after she was silent. One edge of his mouth curved and her heart accelerated as he said, “I know.”

  She caught his gaze. “Please don’t hurt him.” Or me.

  He leaned forward. “I’m not perfect, Sierra. But I would n
ever intentionally hurt anyone. Especially Braden.”

  She gave him a small smile. “I know. I do know that. I just freaked out.”

  “Moms are allowed to do that about once a month, don’t you think?”

  “I think I’ve gone through a year’s quota in the last week.”

  He laughed and relaxed back into the cushions. His grin was soft. “I missed your smile this week.”

  “Thanks.” She let her eyes linger on his, then said, “Braden hasn’t stopped asking if he can go work with you.”

  He folded his hands behind his head and nodded with a slow grin. “Yeah, I’d like to have him back on the job.” His eyes held hers until her cheeks grew warm and she looked down at her mug.

  His voice was deep. “Sid came home today.”

  “That’s great! When I visited him Monday, he thought he might come home this week. Sounds like he surprised the doctors.”

  Ross grinned. “That’s Sid calling card. He doesn’t fit the mold.” The warm expression on his face made her stomach quiver. He sat forward, a teasing note in his voice. “I’ve been sent as the emissary.”

  She took a sip of the cooling coffee. “Oh?”

  “We’d like to hire you to be Sid’s nurse.”

  “Hire me?” A real job? “But I don’t have any nursing skills.”

  He gave her a dry look. “I think raising three kids more than qualifies you. Sid just needs some meal prep, help with his meds, and some company. Nothing too complicated.”

  “How’s he feeling?”

  “Cranky, sore. Pretty much what you’d expect from a seventy-three-year old man who hates being laid up.” Ross cleared his throat. “Um, I haven’t been totally honest.”

  Her fingers tightened on the mug, and she leaned back into the recliner. “What do you mean?”

  “Sid can be cantankerous at times.”

  She frowned at him. “And this is supposed to make me jump at the offer?”

  He laughed. “What I mean is, Sid doesn’t have any trouble letting the growl out with me. I’m not sure our friendship can survive his recuperation.”

  She cocked her head at him. “So let him take it out on tough old Sierra?”

  His laugh grew deeper, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s not what I meant, though I’m sure you could handle it. Sid’s old school. He wouldn’t take it out on a lady.”