The Rancher's Redemption (The Millers of Morgan Valley Book 2)

by Kate Pearce

  “Rachel?”

  She took the chair next to Chase while HW groaned and got out of his seat. “I guess you won’t be needing my input on this one, guys? Way out of my intellectual depth here.”

  Ry snorted. “Weird how Rachel and I are blond, and we can handle it.”

  HW gave his twin a casual pat on the head. “Good for you, Bro. I’ve got more important things to do like wash my hair.”

  “Dumbass,” Ry muttered as HW sauntered away. “Sometimes I can’t believe we’re identical, let alone related.” He took the seat on the other side of Chase. “So what’s the plan?”

  “I was hoping we could get some kind of camera down there that could roam around by itself and map the place,” Chase confessed. “But, apparently, that’s not possible.”

  Ry frowned. “Why not? They send those things down sewer lines and pipes all the time.”

  “No flat surfaces for the robot to run on, and problems communicating that far below the surface,” Rachel said promptly.

  “Yeah, that’s right.” Chase looked at her with approval. “So we’re left with a few choices. The first one is fill in everything we find with concrete, which is kind of the traditional way.”

  “But we don’t know the extent of the mine or the position of the tunnels yet so we could make things worse, and we might contaminate the groundwater system,” Rachel pointed out.

  “That wouldn’t be good,” Ry said. “What else can we do, Chase?”

  “Well, we can monitor everything from above using”—Chase read aloud from his laptop—“‘a wireless sensor network prediction technique based on multivariate statistical analysis of various parameters.’”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Ry asked.

  “Basically, keeping an eye out for sinkholes and the ground shifting using cameras and sensors on the surface,” Rachel said.

  “Okay, so why didn’t they say that?” Ry looked at her. “Sounds just like Chase when he talks out of his ass.”

  Chase grinned at his brother. “Thanks.” He turned to Rachel. “There is one more thing we can use to work out what’s going on down there—ground-penetrating radar.”

  “Would that go deep enough?” Ry asked.

  “If we use boreholes and lower the radar into the mine, then yes.” Rachel nodded. “You can get some pretty good three-dimensional images these days. Can we afford to do that, Chase? We’d need some specialized equipment.”

  “It’s okay by me. I’d rather have some idea what we’re dealing with than not.” Chase typed something on his keyboard. “I’ll contact some people and cc you both on the e-mails, okay?”

  “Sounds good to me.” Ry pushed back his chair. “I’m off to town to see Avery. Does anyone need a ride?”

  Chase looked up. “Dad’s at his AA meeting. I’m not sure if he took his own truck so he might need a ride home.”

  “Okay. I’ll check in with him.” Ry nodded. “See you guys later.”

  Sometimes when Ry smiled he looked so like Annie that it hurt Rachel to see it. Not that her mom had been a great smiler. She’d worried so much about every little detail that she’d worn a permanent frown line on her forehead.

  “He’s a lot like Mom, isn’t he?” Chase said without looking up. “More than HW, which is weird seeing as they are identical.”

  “I know.” Rachel let out her breath. “It kind of freaks me out sometimes.”

  “Me too.” Chase hesitated. “I remember Annie a lot more clearly than the others, and when she smiled . . . it could make your day so much brighter.” He shut down his laptop. She’d noticed that none of them called Annie “Mom.” “But man, when she got mad? Especially in the last year she was terrifying.”

  “So I gather.” Rachel stared down at the table. “She didn’t smile much when I was young.”

  Chase turned to her. “Before she married Paul?”

  “Yes, we were always on the move, money was tight, and she was just so anxious. Even when I was small I knew that.”

  “That must’ve been tough for you.”

  “At least I had her.” Rachel met Chase’s blue gaze. “You guys lost your mother completely.”

  “But we had Ruth, and Roy, and Dad for at least a while, and this place. What did you have?”

  “A mother on the run who, according to HW, didn’t mean for me to tag along.” Rachel couldn’t believe she’d actually said the words out loud.

  Chase reached out his hand to cover hers. “Hey, that’s—”

  “The truth, right?” Her voice cracked. “HW put me in the truck thinking Mom would bring me back and take him, her favorite child, instead.”

  “But she didn’t,” Chase reminded her gently. “She kept you and brought you up very successfully while forging a new life for herself.” He paused. “It might sound a weird thing to say, but I kind of admire her guts. It can’t have been easy.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. She was pretty amazing.” Rachel bit back a flood of memories and smiled instead. She’d learned early that expressing negative feelings didn’t get you anywhere. “Let me know when you’ve got that equipment and we can take it from there.”

  She stood and put her balled-up napkin on the table. “Would you like me to pour you a cup of coffee, Chase? I’m getting one before I go upstairs to research ground-penetrating radar.”

  Chase stretched his arms over his head until his bones cracked. “Thanks, but I’ve got to go over to the guest reception. This last group of guests is causing January some scheduling issues. To be honest, I’ll be glad when they’ve gone, and we have the ranch to ourselves.”

  “I thought you liked being a dude ranch?” Rachel was more than happy to change the subject.

  “Most of the time I do, but this lot?” Chase grimaced. “They just aren’t working out too well. In the future I’m not going to book any more just-male groups. The dynamic is weird.”

  “Do you need any help?” Rachel offered.

  “Thanks for asking, but the last thing I’d do is send you over there.” Chase got to his feet. “I’m barely stopping Sam from taking them all out as it is.”

  Rachel smiled at the thought of HW’s feisty retired military police girlfriend standing up to the dudes. Her phone buzzed and she took it out of her pocket to see a text from Jenna.

  “See you later, Chase.” She started to read as she left the kitchen, completely forgetting her coffee.

  “Thanks for your input, Rachel,” Chase called out as she climbed the stairs.

  Dog remains in stable condition. One broken rear leg, probably from the fall, otherwise all good. More tomorrow, J x.

  Rachel sent a text back. Thanks so much! Let me know how much I owe you!

  Already taken care of, no worries. J x.

  Rachel fired up her laptop and sat at her desk. At least the dog was okay. She stared at her cell. Maybe she should text Cauy and let him know....

  Would he want to hear from her? He said he liked it when she talked, but he might just be being polite.

  “Cauy, polite?” Rachel said out loud. Sure, he could be, but he certainly didn’t suffer fools gladly and had no problem drawing a line. He didn’t back down from a bit of Morgan intimidation either.

  She found his number and started typing.

  Hey! Just wanted to let you know that the dog is doing okay!

  She held her breath as the message flashed delivered, immediately regretting her cheery exclamation marks. And the message rhymed. Great.

  Good to hear.

  His immediate reply made her jump.

  I’ll let you know any further updates tomorrow. Thanks again.

  You’re welcome.

  Rachel considered what to do next. After talking to Chase about their mother she definitely didn’t want to sit and brood.

  What are you up to? Rachel typed.

  Watching sports.

  Oh, sorry to interrupt.

  If it was that good I wouldn’t have texted you back.

  Rachel smiled at he
r phone. Vintage Cauy, dry and to the point. Idly, she checked her e-mail. There was one from her dad and Jane. She clicked on the link and stared at a photo of a blue crystal sea and old white pillars, which she assumed was Greece. In the pic, her father was standing behind Jane with one hand spread over her stomach grinning like a loon.

  Rachel read the text.

  Great News! Expecting our first child next year!

  She stared at the picture for a long time, and then shut her laptop down. For once Morgan Ranch was silent around her. Ruth was helping Jenna furnish her new home, and everyone else was either out with the guests or in town.

  Her phone chirped.

  You okay?

  Was Cauy actually checking up on her? Rachel silently shook her head.

  Rachel?

  She shot to her feet, grabbed her fleece, and went back down the stairs to the mudroom. Her sheepskin-lined coat, knitted hat, and boots were already warm when she put them on and went out into the inky black evening. She got into her truck and made her way out to the county road before taking a sharp turn back up into the Lymond Ranch.

  It was weird to park at a ranch where there were no dogs coming out to greet you, no lights in the barn, and few welcoming lights in the house. Even as Rachel approached the back door it opened, and Cauy was standing there. Without a word, he stepped back and let her inside. It was warm in the kitchen. The remains of his evening meal sat in the sink, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air.

  He watched her for a long moment and then held out his hand as she took off her coat and hat, placing them on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Rachel found she couldn’t sit down so she paced the kitchen, noticing for the first time that there were no family photos or personal items around.

  “Why don’t you have pictures?” she asked.

  “Of what?” Cauy leaned up against the wall and watched her carefully.

  “Of family, or friends, or, anything.”

  He shrugged. “I guess I haven’t gotten around to it.”

  “You do have some then?”

  “I’m pretty sure my mom left some behind. Why does it matter?”

  “Because it does.” Rachel turned to face him properly. “Pictures matter.” Her voice was wobbling now, and he tensed like he was waiting for her to bolt. “Like pictures your stepfather and his new wife send to all their friends and just include you without mentioning it first.”

  “Pictures of what?”

  “Their happy news. That they are having their first child, and that’s kind of weird because my mother told me her husband couldn’t have children, so who was lying, and why?”

  Cauy shifted very slightly. “That sucks.”

  “That’s all you have to say?” Rachel rounded on him.

  “What else would you like me to say? One of them lied to you and, as far as I can tell, there’s only one person who can answer that question, and it isn’t me.”

  “Thanks for nothing.” Rachel glared at him. “I suppose you’re going to tell me you didn’t ask me to come up here and start telling you stuff you didn’t want to hear either?”

  Cauy crossed his arms over his chest. “No. I’m not going to do that.”

  She made a dash for her hat and coat feeling so stupid, and tearful, and what exactly had she expected him to do?

  “Hey.” His hand closed gently around her elbow. “Rachel, just—”

  * * *

  He turned her against his body. For a second she stiffened as if ready to push him away, and then gave it up and flowed against him in one sudden wave. He just held her, his face buried in her hair as she cried as if her heart was broken. Reaching into his pocket, he found his handkerchief and pressed it into her hand.

  She immediately stepped back and blew her nose.

  “Thanks.” Her brave attempt at a smile made something in his heart clench. “Sorry to get all emotional on you. I hate crying. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  He motioned her toward the two chairs in front of the TV he’d turned off when he’d heard her truck coming up the drive.

  “I should probably go,” Rachel said.

  Cauy took his seat and waited her out until with a little sigh she came to join him.

  “I feel like an idiot.”

  “Join the club.” Cauy waited as she blew her nose again. “Would you like some coffee?”

  She nodded, and he went to get her a mug and refreshed his own. It gave him something to do with his hands while his head tried to work out why Rachel Morgan had brought her problems to him. According to his ex, he was the world’s worst person to confide in about anything, so how badly was he going to mess this up?

  He brought her coffee and put the mug on the table beside her.

  “You remembered how I like it,” Rachel said. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He resumed his seat and sipped his own coffee as if it had magical power to help him do the right thing.

  “I suppose I should explain,” Rachel said.

  “Not on my account,” Cauy hastened to say. “Unless you need to get something off your chest.”

  “I’d rather tell you than the Morgans.” Rachel looked at him. “They tend to be a mite overprotective of me and I don’t want this to turn into a big thing, you know?”

  “Okay.”

  It obviously was a big thing to have driven her to Cauy’s place in tears, but he was willing to go along with her reasoning if it helped.

  “I got a group e-mail with a photo of my dad and Jane in Greece.” She looked down at her mug of coffee. “It was a general announcement that Jane was pregnant. They both looked thrilled.”

  Cauy nodded, channeling the therapist he’d had after his accident, who had just sat there and forced him to talk to fill the silence.

  “I . . . didn’t take it well,” Rachel confessed. “Firstly that my dad hadn’t given me a heads-up, but then he didn’t tell me he was getting remarried until the actual day it happened either, so why am I surprised?” She paused. “I suppose you’re going to say he probably didn’t know how to tell me and didn’t want to hurt my feelings.”

  “No,” Cauy said. “I think he messed up. Big-time.”

  “You do?” She smiled at him through the remnants of her tears. “And then there’s that whole other bit about me always wanting a sibling, and my mom telling me that Paul couldn’t have children. Why would she lie about that?”

  Cauy shrugged. “Maybe she was the one who didn’t want any more kids. She’d already had five.”

  “And that didn’t go well for her, did it, seeing as she walked out on four of them?” Rachel bit her lip. “Maybe he wanted kids all along, and she refused to have them.”

  “Sounds possible.” Cauy took another slug of coffee.

  “I never asked him because Mom said it would be too upsetting. . . .” Rachel winced. “I suppose you’re going to tell me I should grow up and ask him now.”

  Cauy didn’t say a word, and she carried on talking.

  “But maybe wait until after this baby is born, right?”

  Rachel seemed to be doing a great job sorting out her problems by herself while he just sat there and nodded along. Maybe that therapist had been onto something....

  “I thought Jane was too old to have kids, or that she’d decided she didn’t want them,” Rachel sighed. “And as my dad was younger than Mom I suppose he’s okay with it. Here’s what’s weird, Cauy. That baby isn’t really related to me at all, is it?”

  “Only through your family connection to Paul.”

  “Yes, that’s right.” Her smile was strained. “It isn’t really anything to do with me. Paul, my stepdad, has moved on, and I’ve . . .” She sucked in a breath. “Become irrelevant.”

  Silence fell between them as Cauy tried to work out what to say. “Family can be complicated.” Wow, that was profound. He tried again. “I didn’t get along with my dad. We barely spoke after I left home. But he still left me the ranch.”

  �
��Because you’re his eldest son.”

  “I’m not sure if that’s true.” He took a quick breath. “My mom was seventeen when she married him. I was born six months after that.”

  It was Rachel’s turn to stare at him without speaking.

  “And before you ask, my mom won’t tell me the truth,” Cauy added. “She says it’s not important. That there are two names on my birth certificate and that’s all I need to know.”

  “Wow.” Rachel put her coffee down. “Now I feel like such a whiner.”

  “I didn’t mean for you to feel like that. I was just—”

  “Sharing something personal to make me feel better?”

  “Yeah.” He held her gaze. “That.”

  She slowly stood and walked over to his chair. He leaned his head back to take all of her in as she framed his face with her hands and kissed his mouth.

  “Thank you, Cauy.”

  With a stifled sound he hoisted her onto his lap and kissed her back. This time no one interrupted them, not even themselves, and it was glorious, and maddening, and . . . Cauy cupped her ass and pressed her more firmly against the hardness contained in his jeans. She moaned into his mouth and rocked against him.

  She slid her fingers under his T-shirt and he shivered as her nails lightly raked down his biceps.

  “Is this okay?” she whispered.

  His answer was his own attempt to get under the layers and touch her right back. He peeled off her fleece and unbuttoned her shirt while she yanked his T-shirt right over his head.

  “Oh . . .” she breathed, stretching her fingers over his naked chest. “You’re so warm, and hard, and . . .”

  Cauy almost came in his jeans as she ran her fingers down over his pecs through the hair on his chest, catching one of his nipples with her nail. He slid his hand down the back of her jeans.