Patrick nodded his understanding, because he’d been frantic, too, when Brooke called to tell him.
“And I know it was a thousand times worse for Brooke,” Bruce continued. “She’s always tried so hard to be a good mom, and when something like this happens, a parent can’t help but question every decision they’ve ever made.
“Add to that the fact that she has no one to share the responsibilities of parenting with, and she’s carrying a hefty burden. Sure, she can take all the credit for raising a pretty terrific kid, but she also shoulders all the blame when something goes wrong.”
“Good thing she has strong shoulders,” Patrick remarked.
“They’re strong because they’ve had to be. Because there haven’t been many people in her life that she can count on.”
Patrick got the message, loud and clear. If he wasn’t ready to be the kind of man that Brooke—and Brendan—needed, then he had no business indulging in a romance with the single mom.
It was time for him to step up or step back.
* * *
Brooke tried to hold it together. She really did. But when she saw her little boy sitting on the edge of the bench in the tack room as if he’d been put in a time-out—and maybe he had—she couldn’t hold it together anymore. And though Brendan likely didn’t have a clue why his mother was crying as she hugged him so tight against her chest, he was soon crying, too.
“I’m sorry, Mommy,” he said, when she’d finally managed to pull herself together again.
“I know,” she said, still teary-eyed. “You’re also grounded.”
“What? Why?”
“Because this is one of those times when an apology doesn’t make everything okay,” she told him.
“But—”
“No buts,” she interjected. “You know the rules, and you deliberately broke them.”
“I didn’t think not going to the Silver Star was a rule,” Brendan protested.
“The rule is that you never go anywhere without asking permission and especially not without telling me where you’re going,” she reminded him.
“I didn’t ask because I knew you’d say no,” he admitted.
Brooke sighed, struggling to find the right words. “You might find this hard to believe, but I don’t say no just for fun. When I tell you that you can’t do something, there’s usually a good reason. When I want to know where you are and who you’re with at all times, it’s because I need to know that you’re safe.”
“I was safe,” he said. “I was here.”
“But I didn’t know that when Grandpa came to the clinic to tell me you didn’t get off the bus,” she pointed out. “And Gramma and Grandpa didn’t know it, either. Which is why we’ve all been worried sick about you.”
Fresh tears welled up in his eyes and he wrapped his arms around her, pressing his wet face against the front of her shirt. “I’m sorry,” he said again.
And somehow the squeeze of his skinny arms managed to obliterate the last vestiges of terror that lingered in the corners of her heart.
And now that the fear had finally subsided, the questions pushed to the front of her mind, prompting her to ask, “How did you even get here?”
“I came on the number three bus.”
Brooke frowned. “The bus drivers aren’t supposed to let you get on any bus but your own,” she said, uneasy to learn that he’d been able to walk onto the wrong vehicle.
He dropped his gaze to stare at his boots. “The usual bus driver wasn’t driving today.”
“But how did you even know what bus to take?”
“I asked Daniel Carson what was his bus.”
Daniel was a grade ahead of Brendan at school, but they’d been in the same class when Daniel was in SK and Brendan was in JK. They’d had similar-looking backpacks that year and somehow mixed them up one day. Brendan had been inconsolable when he’d realized what happened, certain his mom wouldn’t be able to pack his lunch for the next day if he didn’t have his lunch box. So Brooke had driven out to Daniel’s house to let the boys exchange bags.
Although that had been almost three years ago, she knew her son remembered the incident—and where Daniel lived, because he’d pointed out the house on various occasions when they’d driven past, wanting to know if she remembered “the boy who took my backpack.”
“So you walked over here from Daniel’s house?” she asked, still trying to put the pieces together—and not completely lose it again to realize that her son had crossed a major road between the two properties.
He nodded.
Even now, knowing he was safe, she felt sick to think of her seven-year-old child walking the rural road on his own. Because although he’d obviously reached his intended destination without mishap, there were so many things that could have gone wrong.
“I’m really glad that you’re safe,” Brooke said, aware that Patrick had returned to the barn and stood in the open doorway of the tack room, listening. “I’m also really mad that you disobeyed me after I said you couldn’t come to the Silver Star today.”
Brendan’s lower lip trembled. “I just really wanted to see the puppies.” Then he looked at Patrick, as if pleading for his help. “And you said I could come to the ranch anytime I wanted.”
“With your mother’s permission,” the rancher reminded him. “What you did wasn’t just against her rules, it was inconsiderate and potentially dangerous.” He paused. “You also lied to me, Brendan, and that hurt my feelings. I thought we were friends. And friends should be honest with each other.”
Patrick glanced at Brooke, then back at her son, and said regretfully, “So until you prove, to your mom’s satisfaction—and mine, too—that you can follow her rules, you’re not allowed at the Silver Star.”
The boy’s jaw dropped and his eyes filled with fresh tears before he spun on his heel and raced out of the room.
Brooke sighed and moved closer to the window, through which she could watch Brendan run into the open arms of his grandmother, who’d obviously arrived while they were in the barn. Then Bruce folded his arms around both his wife and grandchild.
“You know, I always thought that whole ‘punishing you hurts me more than it hurts you’ thing parents tell their kids was a load of garbage,” Patrick said. “But, damn, that was hard.”
“Doing the right thing usually is hard,” she agreed.
“How long is he grounded for?”
“I don’t know yet. But thank you,” she said. “For backing me up with Brendan.”
“Always,” he promised.
And in that moment, she caught a glimpse of what life might look like with a partner to share all the joys and sorrows, and she believed that Patrick Stafford just might be a man she could count on.
* * *
He didn’t see Brooke at all over the next few days, and he thought that was probably a good thing. After the incident with Brendan and his conversation with the boy’s grandfather, Patrick realized he had a lot of things he needed to figure out.
He’d told Bruce the truth when he said he couldn’t imagine the roller-coaster emotions Brooke had gone through when her son was missing. Before he’d started spending time with Brooke and Brendan, Patrick hadn’t appreciated the tremendous responsibilities that went hand in hand with raising a child—especially for a single parent.
Brooke deserved to be with someone who could take some of that weight off her shoulders. A partner who was willing to share both the credit and the blame, the good times and bad times and scary-as-hell times. And as much as he might wish he could be that person, he knew that if he tried, he would only end up disappointing her.
The example that her parents had set in their relationship had given her something to aspire to, but he didn’t know how to be a husband or a father. Certainly Derrick Stafford had never been a model of either. And while Patrick had learned a lot of
what not to do, Brooke deserved better than that.
Now he was faced with the task of having to tell her the truth: that he was just one more guy she couldn’t count on.
But he wasn’t prepared to do it just yet, and he wasn’t sure what to say when she drove up as he was cooling Pongo down after a ride.
Hopping out of her truck, she offered him a smile that squeezed his heart.
“I didn’t expect to see you today,” he said.
“I was passing by on my way back to town and thought I’d stop to invite you to dinner tomorrow night. It’s my day off, which means that I’ll actually have some time to cook,” she said. “And hopefully figure out how to apologize for the way I reacted the other day when Brendan was missing. Or after he was found.”
“Please don’t apologize,” he said, aware that he was going to do something worse than bruise her feelings and with less justification.
“So...dinner?” she prompted.
“Actually, Melissa’s trying out a new chicken-fried steak and gravy recipe tomorrow.”
“Oh. Okay.” She looked at him then, as if waiting for him to say something more.
He remained silent.
“This would be a good time for you to invite me to have dinner with you here instead,” she said, with a hopeful smile.
He was more than a little tempted to do just that, and to put off what needed to be done. But that wouldn’t be fair to either of them.
“You grounded Brendan,” he reminded her.
“I’m sure my parents would be happy to have Brendan stay with them. And since I’m not grounded, I could even stay for dessert,” she said.
It was obvious what she was offering, and it seemed like forever since they’d made love...
But since when did he think of sex as making love?
And since when did he think about a woman every minute of every day that they were apart?
Only since Brooke.
She was always on his mind and in his heart.
The terrifying truth was that she meant more to him than any woman he’d dated in a very long time, maybe ever. And he could easily imagine a life with her and Brendan, but he wasn’t ready to be a husband and father, to be tied down with a family.
“Actually, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said.
The teasing smile on her face faded, and the light in her eyes dimmed. “Why not?”
He could tell by the flatness of her tone that she already knew what he was going to say. But she was going to make him say it. She was going to make him prove he was every bit the callous jerk he’d promised her he wouldn’t be.
“I just think...it’s been a crazy week with everyone’s emotions running high and maybe—I think maybe it’s time to take a step back.”
“A step back.” She nodded. “I guess that puts us right back where we started, doesn’t it?”
“I’m sorry, Brooke.”
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry,” she said. “Sorry that I let myself believe you might be different. That I believed you when you said you cared about me and Brendan, that we mattered.”
“I do care about you and Brendan,” he told her. “I’m just not ready to take on the responsibilities of a wife and child.”
“Whoa!” She held up both hands. “I invited you to dinner. I didn’t ask you to marry me.”
“But isn’t that where you thought our relationship was eventually headed?” he challenged.
“Eventually is a rather vague timeline,” she pointed out. “And even if it did cross my mind that we might eventually move in that direction, I can assure you that I’m in no rush to tie myself to a cowboy with a reputation for bailing at the first sign of a relationship getting real.”
“That’s not what’s happening here,” he protested, though the denial sounded hollow even to his own ears.
“That’s exactly what’s happening,” she said. “And truthfully, I’m not surprised. Maybe this relationship charade lasted a little longer than I expected, but we both knew this was where we’d end up, didn’t we?”
And without giving him a chance to respond, she got back in her truck and drove away.
* * *
Brooke had told him that she wasn’t surprised, but she was.
Not only surprised but hurt.
Just when she’d started to think that she’d been wrong about him, that there was more to Patrick Stafford than his reputation, he’d proved her not just a fool but a lousy judge of character.
Thankfully, she didn’t have to come up with any excuses to justify to Brendan why they weren’t going out to the Silver Star, because he was grounded. And maybe by the time his grounding was lifted, he would have forgotten about Patrick and the Silver Star.
But as angry as she was with Patrick, she couldn’t deny that there had been some truth to his accusation. She’d agreed to an affair, and then she’d started to imagine the physical intimacy might lead to something more. Because she wanted more, not just for herself, but for her son, too.
She wanted a man who wanted to be a father to Brendan, but now she knew Patrick wasn’t ever going to be that man. And if she’d been hurt by the realization, it was her own fault. Because he’d told her right from the beginning that he wasn’t looking to take on that kind of responsibility.
Of course, he’d then spent a couple of months doing a pretty good imitation of a man taking on that responsibility. But that was all it had been—an imitation. She deserved the real thing. And so did Brendan.
* * *
Jenna and Melissa were in the kitchen, eating caramel apple coffee cake and drinking herbal tea, when Patrick walked into the house. He usually couldn’t wait to sample whatever his cousin had whipped up, but he wasn’t the least bit tempted by the freshly baked treat today, his belly filled with a hard, heavy ball of guilt and regrets.
Jenna glanced past him, as if looking for someone else. “I thought I saw Brooke’s truck in the driveway.”
“Yeah, she was here,” he confirmed.
“She usually pops in to say hi,” Melissa remarked.
“She had to get home.”
Though he’d attempted to keep his tone neutral, the look exchanged by the two women warned that he hadn’t quite succeeded.
“Oh, Patrick. What did you do?” Jenna asked him.
“What do you mean?” he hedged.
“You broke up with her, didn’t you?” His sister’s tone was accusing.
“How do you break up with someone you aren’t really dating?” he challenged, unnerved by the eerily accurate insights of the women.
“He didn’t break up with her,” Melissa said, speaking to Jenna now. “He did something worse—he broke her heart.”
“I did not,” he denied.
His sister folded her arms over her chest. “Did you make her cry?”
“No.”
“She wouldn’t cry in front of him,” Melissa decided. “She’s stronger than that.”
“Or maybe because she agreed that it was time to go our separate ways,” he offered.
“I don’t understand,” Jenna said, sounding sincerely baffled and maybe a little disappointed. “I thought she was different. I thought you really cared about her.”
“I did. I do,” he admitted. “But the longer we let things continue, the more everyone was going to be hurt when it was over.”
“Why did it ever have to be over?” his sister demanded. “Why couldn’t you, for once, let yourself actually be happy?”
“I am happy,” he said. “I like my life the way it is. I’m not looking for a ready-made family and I definitely don’t need the complication or the responsibility of a child.”
Jenna shook her head. “You really don’t see it, do you?”
“See what?”
“You only think you don’t want a fami
ly, because you don’t want a family like the screwed-up one we grew up in—and no one can blame you for that,” she said. “But while you’ve been renovating buildings and fixing fences over the past several months, you’ve also been creating a family here.”
“Is there alcohol in that cake?” he asked Melissa, suggesting that might be the cause of his sister’s nonsensical rambling.
“Pregnant,” she reminded him. “And your sister isn’t just sober, she’s insightful, and you should listen to her.”
“You might not realize you’re doing it, but you instinctively care for and nurture everyone under your roof,” Jenna continued. “Melissa, me and even Princess.”
“I’m letting you stay—temporarily—in an empty room, and Melissa works here,” he pointed out.
The women exchanged another glance.
“Denial,” they said in unison.
He just shook his head.
“Whether you want one or not, you’ve got a family right here,” Jenna continued. “But until you fix things with Brooke, it’s going to be incomplete.”
* * *
Of course, it took Patrick a few days to come around to the realization that his sister was right.
For a guy who claimed to not want complications, his life was full of them: he had a dog and six puppies in his barn, a runaway sister in his guest cottage and a pregnant woman in his attic.
But what he didn’t have—and the only things he really wanted—were Brooke and Brendan.
He picked up the phone to invite her to come out to the Silver Star, then put it down again, suspecting his request would be refused. He considered calling the clinic to ask her to come out to the ranch to check on his animals, but knew she’d see right through that ruse and probably send the other Dr. B. Langley in her stead. Which left him with only one option: to grovel on her turf.
Maybe it had taken him a while to come around to the realization that they were meant to be together, but he had to hope that he wasn’t too late to convince Brooke to give him—to give them—a second chance.
A Chance for the Rancher Page 20