The Rancher's Family--A Clean Romance

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by Barbara White Daille


  She’d made one mistake with Brad, but Wes wasn’t another. She refused to stop believing he would change his mind, give her a chance, give them a chance. Sooner or later, he would be able to listen to his heart again, too. When that happened, she wanted him to turn to her.

  * * *

  WAS THE WOMAN never coming back down again?

  Standing at the bottom of the stairs, Wes noted the occasional faint sound of her footsteps moving back and forth in the office.

  Since her first night here, she had walked into almost every room in the house one step at a time. And once she left he’d have to deal with all those memories.

  At least she was still here tonight. After their talk earlier and then the scene with Mark, it wouldn’t have surprised him to find she had slipped out the front door while he was with Mark and Tracey.

  The empty couch made him miss the kids. Putting them to bed early tonight left the evening extra long. Or maybe it only seemed that way to him.

  Still, enough was enough.

  He found Cara sitting on the floor with her laptop. “Still working?”

  She nodded. “I wanted to get...well, as much done tonight as I could.”

  “Even after cleaning up the kitchen. Which you didn’t have to do.”

  “I don’t mind. I wanted to help. But you know, now you’ve mentioned it, you didn’t leave anything for me to do before dinner. And...”

  “And, what?”

  She hesitated, her brow wrinkled in concern. “And you didn’t let Mark do his usual job, either. That’s partly the reason he had that meltdown, I think. Helping you gives him a chance to feel, well...helpful. And maybe important. When he didn’t get that, he was disappointed.”

  “Is that how you felt, too?”

  She shook her head. Light from the overhead fixture bounced off her hair, turning it a crackling red, threatening to burn him if he touched it. Struggling to heed the warning, he curled his fingers against his palms.

  When he didn’t respond, she gave a shaky laugh as if the delay unsettled her. Or as if she’d read his thoughts. “Okay, yes, I did feel disappointed when you didn’t need me to help with dinner. But not anymore. Because when we talked outside, you kept saying we shouldn’t get close to each other. But we already were, and now here we are again. Because you kept insisting nothing else would happen between us. And now, call me crazy but all that emphasis gives me hope.”

  He sighed. “Cara—”

  From across the hall, Mark screeched in terror.

  Her eyes widened. Before Wes could say a word, she hurried toward the doorway.

  He followed. “He’s having a nightmare. Yelling in his sleep, the way he did a while back.”

  After his mother had gone away.

  When they reached the kids’ room, Cara stepped aside, giving Wes space to pass by.

  Mark sat straight up in bed staring into space, his covers thrown off, his breath coming in gasps.

  Wes took a seat beside him and wrapped one arm around his shoulders. “Hey, buddy, Daddy’s here. You were dreaming. Everything’s okay.”

  His eyes wide now, too, Mark held out his hands. But not to Wes. “Miss Cara,” he sobbed. “I want Miss Cara.”

  * * *

  CARA’S ARMS WENT NUMB from holding and rocking Mark. He didn’t talk, just gripped her wrist in both hands.

  Startled by her brother’s shrieks, Tracey had stirred but drifted off again almost immediately.

  Wes leaned against the door frame, watching over them, his expression blank.

  Mark’s grip on Cara’s wrist relaxed. He had finally fallen asleep again. She eased him onto the bed and tucked him in, helping with the bedtime ritual just as she’d imagined.

  But not like this.

  Wes backed silently from the room.

  When she went down the hall to the office again, he followed her into the room. She looked around. “I’ve got a few more things—”

  “It’s late. Don’t worry about the rest tonight.”

  He kept his voice down, probably to avoid waking the kids. But she couldn’t miss his expression, the same blank look that had closed him off to her ever since Mark had called for her instead of his daddy, had reached for her instead of him.

  That look had struck right to her heart. She couldn’t let him think his own son put her above him or that she was trying to take his wife’s place with his kids. She couldn’t let his family stand in for the baby she’d lost.

  No. She would never have to worry about that again, not because Wes refused to get close to her but because she’d let herself fall in love with him. She didn’t need a replacement family. She needed the one she had found right here.

  At the moment, she needed a way to erase that blank look from Wes’s face. “I’m sorry for whatever I’ve done to confuse Mark and Tracey. Hurting any of you is the last thing I wanted to do.”

  “That’s not your fault. I knew all along this wasn’t a good idea, but I...I just didn’t want to admit it. And I was dead wrong about the kids getting used to the idea of not seeing you. Dragging it out isn’t going to help at all. They need a clean break.”

  “No!”

  His eyes looked as unseeing as Mark’s had after his nightmare.

  Why couldn’t this all be a bad dream?

  “What I mean is,” she said, “I don’t think that’s the answer. Having me just go out of their lives wouldn’t be good for them, either. That’s how Patty left them. I don’t want to leave them—or you.”

  “No worries. We’re fine, just as I’ve been telling you and everyone else all along.”

  Did he deliberately misunderstand? Or... “Maybe I’m not doing such a good job of explaining. I’ve known you and the kids for such a short time, but to me it feels like...forever. And I don’t want to leave. Not tomorrow, not at the end of the week, not ever. I don’t want to leave because I love Mark and Tracey. You must have figured that out already.”

  “Wouldn’t be much of a daddy if I said my kids weren’t lovable.”

  “No, you wouldn’t.” She took a deep, shaky breath. “But it’s more than that. Yes, I love them both. And I love you.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Too late.”

  His eyes gleamed but his expression stayed the same. “Then I’m sorry for anything I did to confuse you.”

  “But—”

  “Cara, I’m not the man for you. A long time ago, I might have been, and to tell you the truth I’d like to go back then to give you what you want. To be the man you want me to be. But that time’s past. My life has changed.” He looked at her with the same steady blank stare. “I’m doing what I have to do.”

  He believed in his plan and wouldn’t change his mind. And hadn’t she known he had already shut her out?

  She nodded stiffly. “I still need to come back to work on the inventory, but I’ll make sure it’s when the kids are at day care. I’ll come early tomorrow morning to talk to Mark. To tell him why I won’t be picking him and Tracey up at Rhea’s again.”

  “I can tell—”

  “No. Like it or not, we’re in this together. You had to explain to Mark that I wasn’t his new mother. That I was only here for a visit. It’s up to me to tell him the visit’s over. I love Mark and Tracey, Wes. It’s the least you can let me do before I go.”

  He didn’t reply, just gave her a silent nod of agreement and turned away.

  * * *

  SHE REACHED THE Hitching Post at nearly midnight. The welcoming light over the front door greeted her.

  Inside, the desk lamp cast a glow over the lobby, as it did every night. Not so usual, a couple of the sitting room lamps still burned, and someone in the room called Cara’s name.

  Andi had curled up on one of the couches near the fireplace, a book in her hands and an afghan tossed over her legs. “It’s about
time you got home.” She laughed. “Can’t you just hear me saying that to one of my kids someday?”

  “Yes. And probably sooner than you expect.”

  “I know. They’ll grow up so fast.”

  Mark and Tracey would, too. Cara would miss hugging them over lost baby teeth and skinned knees, watching them in their recitals at Rhea’s, celebrating their graduations from day care and kindergarten, and more.

  Pushing the images aside, she said, “What are you doing out here so late?”

  Andi held up her book. “Reading. And waiting for you.” She put the book on the couch beside her and sat up. “I couldn’t wait till the morning to tell you the big news.”

  Good, because Cara’s own news could wait forever.

  She sank onto the chair across from the couch. “What’s up?”

  “Well...we haven’t even stocked our shelves yet, but the store is expanding! Remember your suggestion about adding southwestern-themed gifts?” When she nodded, Andi went on, “There’s a place I shop at every time I go up to Santa Fe. It’s that kitchen and novelty store I told you about.”

  “I remember that, too. Don’t you buy a lot there for the hotel?”

  “We do. I didn’t say anything to you because I didn’t know if my plan would work out. But I talked to the owner last week and again today about carrying some of the handcrafted local pottery they sell. And he agreed to a deal! Isn’t that fantastic?”

  “It’s great.” Especially if the customers arrived by the carload, as Mo anticipated. But as far as Cara knew, Andi hadn’t been out of town. “You settled this with a handshake?”

  “A phone call, actually.” When Cara’s jaw dropped, Andi shook her head. “Don’t worry—I haven’t signed anything yet. Grandpa has a lawyer friend who will be looking over the contract. But there’s more. Everyone I’ve talked to in town is excited about the store. It’s going to do well, I just know it.” She leaned forward, her eyes shining. “And I want you to come in as my business partner.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not? You’re between jobs and you don’t have a lease. And you’re not in a relationship...yet. It’s the perfect time to make the move.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Look, I know you’ll be taking a risk. The store may get off to a slow start and money will be tight until we’re established. But once we have everything up and running, I’m sure it’s going to be a big success.”

  “I still can’t do it, Andi.”

  “All right, then I’m going to play the emotion card. The kids and I miss you and want you with us.”

  “You know I miss you all, too.” Just as she would now miss Wes and Mark and Tracey. “But I can’t stay here.”

  “What happened? Something with Wes?”

  “Nothing with Wes. That’s the problem.” Cara wrapped her arms around her waist. “I...I told him how I felt, and he told me straight out he’s not the man for me.”

  A long time ago, I might have been...

  “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, yes.” Cara’s laugh sounded strangled. “And you and I both know it’s probably a nice way of saying I’m not the one for him.”

  “Well, you still have us.” Andi’s attempt at lightness failed, too. Her eyes were as tear filled as Cara’s own. “I do mean that, you know,” she added softly. “We’re here. Please stay with us.”

  “It’s better if I don’t.” His claim that she would leave again would come true sooner than Wes thought. “I was going home eventually. This just gave me the push. And if I don’t leave, Wes might stop coming here with the kids, when he’s finally starting to reach out again.”

  “He can learn to deal with that.”

  “But can I? If I stay, how will I feel about seeing them? In this small town, it’s a given our paths will cross.”

  “I can’t argue with you there.”

  And Cara couldn’t argue with Wes.

  I’m not the man for you.

  She could prove to him he was exactly the man for her. That wouldn’t matter if he could never bring himself to believe it.

  She had cut her ties with Brad. She would have to walk away from Wes and his family, too. But how could she leave when they meant everything to her?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  AS MUCH AS she longed to see Mark and Tracey again, Cara found her footsteps slowing the closer she came to Wes’s back porch. She faced a first and a last experience this morning—her first time at Wes’s house while he was getting the kids ready to go to the sitter’s and her last time to be here with them all.

  Wes opened the door. “Good morning.”

  After her long night, there was nothing good about this morning. One glance at him said he’d missed out on sleep, too. Lines bracketed his eyes and pale shadows smudged the skin beneath them. She had no delusions about him tossing and turning over her.

  “How’s Mark?” she asked quickly. “Did he have any more nightmares?”

  “No. He seems okay.” He closed the door behind her, then went over to the sink.

  “Good morning, Miss Cara!” To her relief, Mark looked bright-eyed and happy and seemed to have forgotten all about last night. He gave her a huge smile and came toward her, his arms spread wide.

  “Good morning, Mark.” She knelt to hug him, resting her cheek against his hair, hiding her face for a moment while she blinked away a rush of tears.

  “You will drive to Miss Rhea’s today?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No. I just stopped by to do some work.”

  He climbed onto his bench again. The remains of milk in the bowl in front of him showed he’d already eaten breakfast. A plastic cup gave off the tangy scent of orange juice. Tracey had her own bowl on the high-chair tray and dipped her fingers into the dry cereal. Her diaper bag and Mark’s backpack sat on the edge of the counter near the door, ready to go.

  Cara stopped to play pat-a-cake with Tracey before taking “her” chair.

  As Wes now stood at the counter with his back to the room, she knew not to expect any help from him. Swallowing a sigh, she turned to Mark. “I can’t come to pick up you and Tracey from Miss Rhea’s today.”

  “Why?”

  “Well... I have to go back to Arizona.”

  “Oh. Next door.”

  “That’s right. Next door. That’s where I live. And I have to go home.”

  “That’s good.”

  Not the answer she had expected...or wanted. “Why is that good?”

  “You can come back tomorra.”

  “When I go to the Hitching Post, I can come back tomorrow. But Arizona is too far away.”

  “No, it’s not. Grandpa Jed lives next door. Grandpa Jed’s not far away.”

  Using that logic, he made perfect sense.

  “It’s more than that, Mark,” Wes said. “You know when we drive to Miss Rhea’s, the sun’s coming up, and when we drive home, the sun’s going down?”

  Mark nodded.

  “Well, all that time in between, all day when you’re at Miss Rhea’s, that’s how long it will take Miss Cara to drive home.”

  “All day?” His eyes opened wide. “That’s far away!”

  Too far away.

  Mark noisily drained his cup and set it back on the table. “All done, Daddy.”

  “Good. Time to brush your teeth.”

  “Okay.” He scooted off the edge of the bench.

  She watched him run from the room. After a long moment of silence except for the rattle of Tracey’s dry cereal, Cara carried his empty bowl and mug to the counter.

  “I’d have taken care of those,” Wes said.

  “In other words, I don’t need your help.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to,” she said sadly. “I’m getting the feeling we
’ve started the day off from where we left things last night, and my apology for confusing the kids wasn’t enough for you. Or maybe my confession about how I feel was too much.”

  “The apology was accepted and over with, and I told you, you weren’t the only one at fault.”

  No mention of what else she had just said.

  Last night’s brief acceptance didn’t seem enough for her. Nothing given so grudgingly would satisfy her. And if he thought running it by her again now would send her on her way more quickly, he thought wrong.

  Last night, she had given in, believing it was the best choice. The only choice.

  On the ride here this morning, she thought about Andi, working hard for her dreams and to help the women of Cowboy Creek. About Lizzie, waiting for confirmation of her pregnancy and prepared to make huge changes in her life to give her baby a family. They were both going after what they wanted. How could Cara do anything less?

  “You’re right,” she said flatly, raising her chin to look him in the eye. “I never meant to confuse Mark or Tracey. But you’re just as much to blame for doing the same thing—to the kids and to me. Deny it all you want, Wes, but you feel something for me. Mark’s a smart little boy. He picks up on your feelings, too, just the way he noticed your—our—tension at the table last night.”

  “No tension on my part. I just didn’t have anything to say.”

  Her laugh cracked in the middle. “Oh, no. I’ve fallen for bad lines before, but you’re not catching me with that one.”

  “It’s not a line. Or at least wasn’t intended that way. Even if I were looking for someone—and I’m not—I’ve got my kids and my ranch here. You’ve got your job search and your apartment hunt and your life somewhere else. That ought to prove to you we’re not a good match. That we don’t have much of anything in common.”

  “You’re right. Not much in common. Except for liking cookouts and burritos and bacroni. Ice cream and corny jokes and tall tales. Fun dinners around the kitchen table and quiet nights in the living room with the kids.”

  “Those kids are my priority. Right now, they’re all I can think about.”

 

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