Tricia nodded, her fist pressed to her mouth. She didn’t look convinced.
“I take it he hasn’t been here yet,” Mason said.
Kane put his book down, frowning at them. “We haven’t seen anything or heard anything,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean he might not stop by, and I kinda doubt he would announce himself.”
The restrained anger in Kane’s voice gave Mason hope. It looked like Tricia would be well protected.
But still…
“I have to move,” Tricia said standing up, looking around as if trying to escape. “I have to get out of here.”
“It’s okay, Tricia, you’ve got backup,” Faith said, putting her magazine down.
Mason wanted to reassure her, but he had no right. Thankfully Kane came to her side, slipped an arm around her shoulders. “You aren’t going anywhere. You’re staying right here. If he tries to come, we’ll handle it. You’re not doing this on your own anymore.”
For a moment Mason resented Kane’s ability to protect Tricia. He felt a sudden urge to want to do it himself. But he brushed it off. It wasn’t his place.
Besides, he had mixed motives for being here, and he doubted Tricia would appreciate them.
Which reminded him. He needed to tell Roger about this latest development.
Tricia laid her head on Kane’s shoulder and closed her eyes, as if drawing from his support.
Mason hesitated a moment, but when Faith went to stand on the other side of Tricia, her hand resting on her shoulder and Zach woke up to find out what was going on, Mason knew he wasn’t needed here anymore.
He left, closing the door of the house quietly behind him, making his way to his cabin. He opened the door and stepped inside, his boots echoing hollowly in the empty space.
As he turned on the light he took a moment to look around the sparse surroundings. While he was thankful for a space to stay right on the ranch, he compared it to the room he had just left.
And behind that came the thought of the house he and Beth had planned on buying. It was cute and cozy, and Beth had all kinds of plans to fix it up. His sisters would help.
And then, just like that, it was over. The aneurism that lay dormant in her brain suddenly ruptured. She was alone in her apartment when it happened.
Even though she died three years ago, the memory still plagued him. Still created that ache deep in his heart along with an attendant guilt. The doctor told him repeatedly that he couldn’t have prevented it, but it could still torment him. It hurt so much to lose her that the thought of putting himself through that vulnerability again frightened him.
Used to frighten him, he thought. Being around Tricia, spending time with her, had switched those emotions. For the first time in years he had found someone who shared his passion for horses. Who was interested in what he did. Beth liked horses, but only in the same way most people did. They were interesting and beautiful, but she never understood his passion for them.
Not like Tricia did.
He walked over to the bed, sat down, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. As he punched in Roger’s number, his mind flitted back to the woman in the house he had just left. A woman who was inching her way toward his protected heart. A woman who was taking up more and more of his thoughts.
Mason gathered his thoughts when Roger answered.
“Hey there,” Mason said.
“Anything to report?”
Nothing like getting right to the point.
Tricia’s negative comments about Drew’s father teased his thoughts. But he shook them off. He had a job to do, and he would finish it.
“So I’m wondering if you found out anything about this Perry guy,” Mason asked. “He came to Rockyview today.”
“Did he come to the ranch?” Roger’s voice grew even more brusque.
“No, but he was asking for directions.” Mason pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing he could solve this problem.
“I’ve got a private detective looking into his background,” Roger said. “I haven’t found a whole lot, other than the fact that Tricia is not the first person he beat up. Which doesn’t speak well to her character.”
“How was she supposed to know that?” As soon as Mason spoke the defensive words, he regretted it. It sounded like he was standing up for her.
But the more time he spent around her, the more he saw the support she was getting from her family, the less he felt like his boss had a case.
Thankfully, Roger let the comment slide.
“I should have a report soon,” he continued. “In the meantime, let me know if he comes to the ranch. I don't want him anywhere near those kids.”
On that he and his boss were in full agreement.
“And how are the kids?" Roger continued. "How are they with their mother?”
Mason hesitated again, trying to find the right words to explain the relationship in a way that would satisfy his boss and not make him feel like he was being disloyal to Tricia. She had opened her heart to him, trusting him. He didn’t want to betray that trust.
“I think there’s difficulties,” was all he could say. “They don’t always seem so connected to her.”
It was the truth, but it wasn’t the full truth.
“I think she’s trying though,” he added.
This netted him a beat of silence. Mason wondered if he had said the wrong thing.
“Whose side are you on?” his boss asked. “Don’t tell me you’re falling for her too?”
Mason drew in a breath, regaining his composure. Roger’s comment hit him right in the guilt zone. If he were honest with himself, if he really wanted to examine his emotions, he would have to admit that he was becoming more and more attracted to her.
“I’m not on any one side,” he said, trying to keep his voice even and steady. “I’m just doing what you asked me to do. Make sure the kids are okay and figure out what’s the best thing to do for them.”
“We know what’s the best thing to do for them.” His boss sounded so determined. “They need to be here with me. Not with some girl who sleeps around and hangs out with questionable men.”
Mason thought of Drew. Did Roger include his own son in those “questionable” men?
“We'll stay in touch,” was all Roger said.
And just like that his boss hung up. Mason looked at the phone and shook his head. He knew Roger wouldn’t win any personality contests, but sometimes he wished he could show a little more humanity. A little more humility.
Mason tossed the phone onto the bedside table and dragged his hands over his face. In a way he wished he could be as clear about his motives as he was when he first came here.
It’s none of your business. No matter what happens, you still have horses to train.
But it was becoming his business. And he wasn’t sure how to balance it all out.
One thing was growing more and more clear to him. He doubted his boss had any case to take the children away.
And Mason doubted he could support him anymore.
Chapter 8
Mason was done for the day and, if he was honest, sore and aching. He knew he shouldn’t have tried to climb on Rango’s back so soon. How could he have read the horse so wrong?
He wanted to blame it on the conversation he’d had with Roger. Pitting himself against the horse was a way to work out the frustrations that were clinging to him more and more.
He’d known getting on was a mistake. He rubbed his arm where tomorrow he would be sporting a huge bruise.
Don’t bring your emotions into the ring, he could hear his trainer say. It’s just you and the horse. What he needs and what you want him to do.
Well, he wasn’t making that mistake again. He had to be more professional in every part of the job he was here to do.
“You’re staying there awhile,” he said to the horse that had just tossed him off.
He had kept the bridle on Rango and had tied him up. Wouldn’t hurt for him to be restricted for a few hours. He’d
come back after supper and let him go.
Mason coiled his rope, watching Rango, but the horse stood quietly, as if knowing he had messed up.
Mason walked back to the tack shed and rolled the large wooden door open, appreciating, as he always did, how tidy the vast array of tack was.
Saddles resting on racks, blankets hung up so they could dry, reins looped and hanging with their bridles, the metal on them gleaming, the leather oiled and shiny.
To a horseman it was a testament to care and respect for horses that resonated with him.
He thought of Roger’s tack and how he treated it. It had taken Mason months to get the saddles oiled and cleaned. To sort through all the various bits and bridles.
But he didn’t have to do any of that here.
He slid the heavy door closed, smooth on oiled rollers, and it closed with a satisfying thunk.
Tricia had sent him a text this morning telling him she wouldn’t be working with the horses. She wanted to spend time with the kids. Like a good mother would do.
Again second thoughts assailed him, and he was glad that he was also here to train the horses, not just keep an eye on Tricia.
The entire morning, he had tried to push his boss’s comments from his head. Tried not to judge him. He knew he owed Roger. Now he had to find a way to satisfy him and his own conscience.
He walked to the house, trying not to limp and trying to swallow his pride. Not always an easy thing to do.
He heard laughing voices, and his step slowed.
Sounded like Tricia was outside with the kids.
He headed to his cabin to change and then go to town for supper again.
But the thought of being by himself held little appeal.
Besides, he was supposed to keep an eye on the kids. What better way to do it than to join them for a moment?
Tricia had a blanket laid out on the grass, and she was pouring what looked like lemonade into a plastic cup for her daughter.
When Hope took it, avoiding her mother’s gaze, Mason felt a flicker of concern. He could tell Tricia was trying, but Hope didn’t seem to want to forgive her. For such a little girl, she sure knew how to hang onto a grudge.
As he came closer, Tricia looked up, and he knew he didn’t imagine the bright smile on her face. He also didn’t imagine the way it made his heart jump in his chest.
“You sit down,” Cash demanded as he joined them. “You have drink.”
“I just came to say hi,” Mason said, resting his hands on his hips as he looked over the kids.
“Sit down.” Cash jumped up and grabbed his hand, clearly not taking no for an answer.
Cash tugged hard. It would look pretty awkward if he pulled his hand back and walked away, so Mason gave in. He sat down on the blanket across from Tricia and between Hope and Cash. Cash just grinned, and Hope turned to him, giving him a wide smile.
“They seem to like you,” Tricia said, a gentle smile teasing her lips. But he glimpsed sorrow in her eyes. “They seem to like just about everybody except me.” Then she waved the comment away. “Sorry. I have got to stop feeling sorry for myself. It’s not very attractive.”
Mason wasn’t so sure about that. With her blonde hair hanging loose around her shoulders, her shining face, and soft gray eyes fringed with thick lashes, she looked pretty darn good to him.
Hope thrust a cup his way. “Drink this,” she demanded.
Mason took the cup, glanced at the pieces of grass floating on the surface and various other leaves, and shot a questioning glance at Tricia. “Do I dare?”
“I would be cautious,” she said with a grin.
So Mason pretended to take a drink then took a deep breath and released it in a sigh of satisfaction. “That’s the best drink I’ve ever had.”
Hope beamed at him. Then she handed him a plate with some cookies. These looked a little more palatable.
“Those are perfectly okay,” Tricia said. “I bought them myself.”
Mason chuckled as he took a cookie and bit into it. “Thanks, Hope. These are delicious.”
Hope nodded. “Yummy cookies. Mommy buyed them.”
“At least she knows the truth about her mother’s lack of culinary skills.”
“A lovely day for a picnic.” Mason rested his weight on one hand, leaning back.
Tricia seemed more relaxed, though he had missed having her around today.
“So which horse did you work with today?” she asked.
“Rango. He’s stubborn, a bit rank, so we’ll have to see how he goes.”
“Once they’re all trained up, I can only work with so many. We might have to sell some beforehand anyway.”
“Play a game,” Hope called out, jumping onto Mason’s lap.
He was surprised and, from the look on her face, so was Tricia.
“I don’t know any games,” Mason admitted.
“Play hide and seek,” Hope demanded, patting him on the shoulder.
“Um, I don’t know how to play that game,” Mason said, stalling. He wasn’t so sure about getting so involved with the kids, though he had to admit they were fun to be around.
When they were behaving like they were now.
“Play now,” Hope called out, jumping off his lap and running off. Cash pushed himself to his feet and grabbed Mason by the hand.
“You come,” he called out, as though Mason were across the yard. “You find us, Mommy.”
"Guess I'll have to play along," he said. With a look of resignation Tricia’s way he scooped Cash up, heading out to catch up to Hope. Thankfully she wasn’t that fast, and Mason easily caught up to her.
As Tricia counted out loud, Hope scooted toward the barn and, for a moment, looked like she was going inside.
Then, with a shake of her head, she toddled around the side, heading toward a copse of trees.
Mason wondered if she knew where she was going or just meandering around. “Hope, we can hide in the barn,” he said to her.
“No. Not barn,” she insisted. “Hide in the trees.”
Okay then.
Mason let her lead the way, clinging to her hand so she couldn’t take off on him. Last thing he needed was to end up being the Seeker and not the Hider. Besides, he was here to make sure the kids were okay, not lose them.
Hope kept tugging on his hand even when they entered the trees. The path made a few turns and he was about to suggest they hunker down and stay there when he glimpsed a wooden wall. They went a little further and he saw it was a small abandoned granary.
“Go inside, go inside,” Cash said, wiggling out of Mason’s arm. Mason let him down, and as they ducked into the building he heard Tricia call out, “Ready or not, here I come.”
Hope giggled, holding her hand over her mouth, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She knew the rules of the game.
They heard Tricia calling out and twice Cash got up as if to go to her. But Mason shook his head, holding his finger over his lips. They were quiet even as Tricia seemed to come close. Maybe she didn’t know about the granary or maybe she was just playing along.
They waited as her voice faded away.
Mason wondered how long to keep the game up. He pulled his phone out, turned the sound off and texted her, asking if she gave up.
She texted back right away that she wasn’t ready to give up yet.
He waited a while longer and then his phone lit up again.
Now I give up, she texted him.
Meet us at the swing set, he sent back. He wanted to keep this place a secret. Just in case…
Just in case what? You stick around and the four of you play this game again?
Mason held that thought then shook it off. He had to stick to the plan.
But as he picked up Hope in one arm and Cash in the other and carried them back through the trees, a part of him yearned for exactly this. Children, a family. A place to belong.
A wife and a home.
He almost stumbled as the thoughts played through his mind.
&
nbsp; Life with Tricia? With these kids?
No. That couldn’t happen. He had other plans and so did Tricia.
Could they change?
Then Hope wriggled free from him and his attention was focused on the kids.
Tricia was sitting on the blanket when they got back.
“You stinkers,” she said as she got up. “You hid really well.”
“It was a good place,” Cash said, giggling.
As the kids plopped on the blanket, grabbing cookies, Mason’s and Tricia’s eyes met.
He sucked in a breath as if to say something when the sound of a vehicle approaching caught his attention.
A car, driving way too fast, came around the last bend in the road and up the driveway, dust roiling out behind it.
“That idiot’s going way too fast,” he muttered, getting to his feet. He glanced over at the children, but they were busy playing on the swings.
Tricia turned in the vehicle's direction just as the driver slammed on the brakes, turned off the engine, and climbed out.
Her swift intake of breath underlined what Mason thought.
This was the guy who had been asking for directions in the cafe yesterday.
The guy that Joe had said beat Tricia up.
Today he wore a polo shirt and faded blue jeans, and he still looked like a jerk.
He smoothed his hair back from his face, looking around, then caught sight of them.
Tricia was trying to get to her feet, groaning as she twisted her torso. Mason took a quick step and helped her up. Then he moved ahead of her, setting her behind him.
“Hey,” Perry called out, pointing at Mason. “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me how to get here yesterday when I asked?”
Tricia stepped away from Mason, her hand resting on his arm, as if warning him to be careful.
“What are you doing here, Perry?” she asked, her eyes flicking from him to her children. They had left the swings and now stood beside her, quiet, watching and wary.
“I came to talk to you,” he said, spreading his hands as if trying to show her how reasonable he was.
“You bad man,” Hope yelled, holding her hand out to him. Cash just leaned against Tricia, his head buried against her leg.
The Cowboy's Family (Family Ties Book 2) Page 9
