The Rancher's Family--A Clean Romance

by Barbara White Daille

  Wes and his kids made the perfect picture. But she wasn’t part of it.

  Mark ran toward her, his arms already held wide for a hug. “Hello, Miss Cara!” He waved to Andi, then turned back to her.

  “Hi, Mark! Did you come for the cookout?”

  He nodded energetically. “Yes. And a b’rito. Daddy wants a b’rito, too.” Tugging on her hand, he led Cara to the doorway.

  “Hi, hi, hi!” Squealing, Tracey waved both hands.

  Cara waved back. “Hi,” she said, greeting both Tracey and Wes.

  “Hey. I stopped by to see Jed, then decided to come say hello to Paz.”

  Not a bad start to the conversation. The last time she’d seen him, he hadn’t talked much. “Well, I’m sorry to say she’s too busy to blink right now. You’re probably better off waiting till the cookout’s underway and she can catch her breath.”

  A waitress excused herself to pass by them, and Wes backed out of the doorway into the hall.

  “It’s crazy in here—obviously,” Cara said. She knew another place in the hotel that would interest Mark, and she would go there with them to make sure Wes didn’t head to the front door. “Let’s take a walk to the sitting room.”

  After a word of caution from his daddy, Mark skipped rather than ran ahead of them down the hall. She and Wes followed more slowly. Suddenly at a loss for words, she focused on playing one-handed pat-a-cake with Tracey and trying not to pat Wes’s arm accidentally.

  They found the sitting room off the lobby deserted except for two boys; Andi’s son, Trey, and Tina’s son, Robbie. Both were only a year or two older than Mark. All three boys already knelt in one corner with Robbie’s collection of toy horses. When Wes set Tracey on the floor, she immediately toddled toward them.

  Wes moved to the fireplace and rested his elbow on the mantel.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” she told him. “Robbie and Trey have been asking about Mark for days. I didn’t say anything to them since I didn’t know for sure, but I hoped you’d bring the kids for the cookout.” Hoped but never dreamed he would actually show up. Maybe her suggestion had made an impact. When he said nothing, she frowned. “You are staying, aren’t you?”

  He didn’t respond. He seemed distracted by the chattering group in the corner. Or worse, pretending to listen just to avoid answering her question.

  Finally, he shrugged. “Guess we’ll hang around. I told Jed we would. Or rather, Mark told him.”

  She smiled. Thank goodness for little boys.

  * * *

  A FEW FEET away from Wes, Cara stood with her crossed arms resting on the back of a tall leather chair. The stance reminded him of her leaning on the upstairs railing at home, her hair tumbling across one shoulder.

  “You still plan on coming to the house on Monday?” he asked abruptly.

  She nodded. “Yes, but later in the afternoon. Oh, and before I forget, if it’s okay with you, Andi would like to leave everything in your office until we’re ready for it. We need to paint the store before we start setting up.”

  “Not a problem. The stuff’s not in the way.” Why he had wandered into that room the other night, he still didn’t know. “I won’t have any reason to go near the office again.”

  The sympathy in her expression instantly made him want to change his mind and tell her not to bother coming back.

  Only the thought of his kids kept him quiet. He needed to do better by them, to make some changes, to get rid of painful reminders. If that meant having Cara around the house for another few days, stirring up memories he didn’t want to face, he’d deal with it.

  “Most of this week I’ll be busy at the store all day. And you know,” she added in a rush, as if a thought had just occurred to her, “on my way I can pick up Mark and Tracey for you. I’ll be in town anyhow, so it only makes sense to save you the trip.”

  He hesitated, weighing the options. She’d already brought the kids home once without a problem. Fewer trips would cut down his expenses with the truck. And he could always use the extra daylight time on the ranch.

  He wondered about her motives. They weren’t friends, yet as Jed had said, she was giving him a hand, the way she was helping Andi. Though he’d let her into his home, he’d never expected her to get this involved in his personal business.

  As much as he hated to admit it, he owed her his thanks. Her efforts in clearing out his bedroom and Patty’s office were helping. And she’d pushed him into action he might never have taken on his own.

  He nodded agreement before he could talk himself out of it. “That would work for me. I appreciate the offer.”

  Too late, he thought about the wisdom of having her spend more time with the kids.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  THIS WASN’T CARA’S first cookout. The Saturday event at the Hitching Post was always fun, and she would enjoy this one even more with Mark and Tracey here.

  The women and men tended to break into separate groups at the long wooden picnic tables set out in the backyard. Babies and kids usually stayed with their mothers.

  Today, although Mark joined Robbie and Trey at the “women’s” side of the yard, Wes had taken Tracey to sit with him.

  More than once, Cara caught herself watching them. Wes didn’t seem at all self-conscious about being the only man at the table bouncing a baby on his knee. He didn’t seem to care that Tracey smeared barbecue sauce all over his sleeve. Now, shouting with laughter, she shoved her corncob into his shirt pocket. He just shook his head, removed the cob and placed it out of reach on his paper plate.

  A while later, she saw him set Tracey on a blanket spread out for the youngest kids, who were being watched over by the women sitting close by.

  When he headed toward the line of people at the dessert table, Cara took a deep, steadying breath. Now or never. As she joined him, she gestured toward a group of men across the yard. “No horseshoes for you?”

  “Nope. Jed’s boys kicked me out of the matches a long time ago. They couldn’t handle playing against a champion competitor.”

  “Champion?”

  “County, state and US.”

  “Wow. I’m impressed.” Surprised, too. From what she had seen of Wes, showing off didn’t seem his style.

  “Won gold five times in the horseshoe Olympics, too,” he added.

  That last statement confirmed her growing suspicion even before she heard the man in line behind them snicker. “That’s awesome,” she gushed, adding sweetly, “and how many medals have you won for telling tall tales?”

  The man behind them laughed.

  Wes shook his head. “Okay, you got me. I should have realized an intelligent woman like you would catch on soon enough. But you have to admit I had you along for the ride.”

  “Yes, you did. Briefly.”

  He laughed.

  Wes might have been putting on an act with her—still, she liked this side of him. He seemed to be enjoying himself. If that encouraged him to bring the kids here more often, maybe being around Jed and his family could help them all heal.

  They carried their desserts to a vacant picnic table. From there, they could see the younger kids, including Tracey, playing with a handful of toys. The older kids now had paper and pencils and crayons on their table.

  “So, what gave me away about the horseshoe stories?”

  She smiled. “Your nose twitched every time you added on to your list of accomplishments.”

  “It did not.”

  “It sure did. How else do you think I knew you were...stretching the truth, shall we say?”

  “I think you’re the one telling tall tales now.”

  She laughed. “So, what gave me away?”

  “Nothing at all.” He stabbed his fork into the pie. “But it would come in handy if everybody gave off an obvious sign when they were lying.”

  “Yes,
it would. Or when they were making promises they couldn’t keep.”

  “That’s the same thing, isn’t it?”

  “No. At least, I hope it isn’t.” She twirled her fork a couple of times before setting it down on her plate and pushing her dessert away.

  “Lose your appetite?”

  She nodded.

  “Must be serious, considering you’re turning down chocolate cake. What happened? Did somebody make a promise to you and then back out?”

  “You could say that.” She struggled to smile.

  “Sorry to hear it. Sorry it ever happens, and we have to go along for that ride, too. But I guess in life we take the bad with the good. And sometimes it’s more of the bad than anything else.”

  “Sometimes,” she agreed. “You’re a man of surprising depth, Wes Daniels.” And this conversation had become more serious than she liked. “At the same time, you’re pretty corny.” She plucked a corn kernel from his shirt collar. “Courtesy of Tracey.”

  “That girl of mine.” He shook his head. “Good thing this wasn’t a seafood supper or you’d see me crabby, too.”

  “Been there and done that—the day we met.”

  He stared at her so intently, she shivered. “Is that so?”

  “Yes. That afternoon at the Big Dipper, I could barely get you to speak to me.”

  “We’ve come a long way since then, haven’t we? I guess you’ve managed to get me out of my shell.”

  “Your crab shell?”

  That day, she hadn’t been able to coax even a smile from him. Now he gave her a genuine grin. His eyes twinkled in the sunlight. He seemed not to have a single care in the world.

  And all this from her one silly question.

  ...it may be you’re just what he needs.

  Wes was right. They had come a long way since that afternoon at the Big Dipper.

  Could Mo have been right, too?

  The thought left Cara stunned.

  “You okay?” Wes frowned as if puzzled about her sudden silence.

  She looked across the yard, searching for something to say. When she caught sight of Mark at the picnic table, she smiled. “Your son loves his pictures, doesn’t he? Did he always like to color?”

  “Since he could first hold a crayon. Once in a while, he and Patty would sit at the kitchen table to draw. Well, more scribbling on his part back then.”

  “It’s nice you’ve helped him keep up the tradition she started. Was she an artist?”

  “No. Just liked to draw.”

  “I don’t know much about crafting, but as creative as she seemed to be, I’ll bet she used a lot of her own ideas and didn’t just follow patterns.” Driven by genuine interest and outright curiosity, she added, “You told me she was good at doing things she liked.”

  “And not so good at follow-through. Yeah, I remember saying that.” He shrugged. “The fact is, she never did any crafts when we first got married. She didn’t like anything that involved staying on the ranch. Instead, she’d always run somewhere with her friends. Even after we had Mark and then Tracey, she spent a lot of time in town.”

  He was fighting to keep his tone neutral, avoiding too many details, holding his emotions in check. Anything to keep from letting her know his true thoughts.

  Easy enough for her to recognize all those tactics, since lately she’d become an expert at them herself. “When Patty wasn’t there for the kids, you were,” she said softly. “I’m sure Mark enjoyed the time with his daddy. And I can see he still does.”

  “I enjoy it, too. I spend as much time with him and Tracey as I can.”

  He turned his head to stare across the yard as if he didn’t want her to read his expression. Too late. Long before he’d looked away, she noted his grin had disappeared. The sparkle had left his eyes.

  Her throat tightened, keeping her from saying a word. But her heart responded with sympathy and understanding and...something else. There were so many more facets of Wes than the crabby one he sometimes displayed.

  Too bad she wouldn’t be around long enough to discover them all.

  * * *

  WHEN SHE’D ARRIVED to pick up the kids at day care, Cara had found a space directly in front of Rhea’s house. Must be her lucky day.

  She settled Tracey in her car seat.

  Mark had already buckled himself into his seat and held his hand upright, waiting for a high five. Cara double-checked everything before nodding and slapping his palm. “Great job!”

  “Job!” Tracey repeated, pounding the edge of her seat. “Job, job, job!”

  “Don’t remind me, Tracey. In case you were wondering, I didn’t get any job hunting done yesterday, either.” Instead, after Sunday brunch, she’d spent a so-called lazy afternoon with Andi and her family. She had chatted and laughed and pretended she had nothing on her mind, while putting into practice every technique Wes had used with her on Saturday. That left part of her mind free for thoughts of him.

  Since the cookout, she had replayed their conversation in her mind several times. She had also repeated Mo O’Neill’s words so many times, they’d become a mantra.

  When Cara saw Wes again, would she get more glimpses of his lighthearted personality? Would he share other memories about Mark and Tracey? Did he regret talking to her about Patty? Did he feel at all the way—

  Oh, no. Not going there.

  Today, while Andi stayed behind to focus on the hotel’s upcoming wedding, Cara drove into town. On the go ever since, she had talked to some of Andi’s potential craft suppliers, seen Lizzie when she came in after school, and had now picked up Mark and Tracey. And as on Sunday, thoughts about Wes ran through Cara’s mind all day long.

  A car door slammed nearby. She looked up to find Marianne walking—no, stalking—toward her. Exactly what Cara didn’t need right now.

  She’d told Andi about Marianne’s visit to the store, but Andi had never heard a word from her. Evidently, Marianne hadn’t let go of her irritation, because even from this distance, Cara saw the angry gleam in her eyes.

  The upcoming conversation probably wouldn’t be pretty. She hurried to the front of her car, putting distance between the kids and Marianne, who started speaking even before coming to a stop in front of her.

  “Well,” she said, looking through the car’s windshield, “I see you’re picking up Wes’s kids again.”

  “Have picked them up, actually.”

  “I heard you had a great time at the cookout on Saturday.”

  This woman must have a network as wide as matchmaker Jed’s. Or maybe Lizzie was right, and in this town, no one could keep anything a secret. “I enjoyed myself very much, thank you.”

  “I meant you had a great time with Wes.”

  “That’s what I meant, too.” Oops. Not a nice thing to say, especially not after Andi had told her Marianne’s hopes for him. But this woman had pushed too many of her buttons—deliberately. Thanks to Brad, Cara’s days of accepting that had ended. “If you’ve got something to tell me, why don’t you just say it?”

  “I will. I’m giving you some advice. Don’t set your sights on Wes.”

  “It was only a conversation.” The nicest they’d ever had.

  “And you shouldn’t expect anything more than that. Wes is loyal, and he’s loved Patty since we were all kids in school.”

  A sliver of sympathy for the woman worked its way into her conscience. After all, she had lost her best friend. “That’s nice to hear,” Cara said quietly. “But Patty’s gone.”

  “I know that.” Marianne’s eyes glittered again.

  “You know, if you have things to say to Wes or Andi or anyone else, you should talk to them directly.”

  “Because you’re leaving?” She couldn’t hide her eagerness.

  “No. Because I’m helping Andi temporarily and that’s all.”

&nb
sp; “Really?” She shot a look through the windshield again. “How is picking up Wes’s kids helping Andi?”

  She stalked away before Cara could respond.

  A good thing, because what would she have said? At this point she couldn’t find answers to her own questions.

  * * *

  CARA STARED AT the file on her laptop. The words and figures on the screen barely registered. She had too many thoughts whirling in her brain. And—no surprise—most of them revolved around Wes.

  When she’d brought the kids home, her heart had given an extra-hard beat at the sight of him, hinting at something she refused to believe. Something she didn’t want to know.

  Afraid he would read something in her expression, she had left the kids in the kitchen with him and come straight up here to work. Right.

  Mark marched into the room, startling her.

  “Pretty picture.” He pointed to the colorful disks now floating across the front of the laptop.

  “Yes, it is.” She hadn’t noticed the screen saver had turned on.

  “Miss Cara stay for supper?” Mark asked.

  Her heart thumped in warning. Yet, crazy as it might be, she’d hoped for the invitation. “Let’s go talk to your daddy first, and then I’ll tell you yes or no.” For all she knew, Mark had come up with this idea on his own.

  In the kitchen, she noticed Wes had already set a napkin and spoon at “her” place at the table. Realizing he had taken for granted she would stay warmed her from head to toe.

  “We’re going gourmet tonight,” Wes told her. “Fish sticks and French fries with green beans and a salad. As you’re planning to work for a while, you might as well join us, if you can handle the menu.”

  She did need to eat. “I can probably manage,” she forced herself to say lightly. “As long as there’s no crab at the table.”

  He sent her a quick, wry smile, proving he’d remembered their silly conversation. Why couldn’t they go back to the way things were that day, before she’d come up with so many unanswered questions?