The Rancher Next Door

by Susan Mallery

  “’Bout time you learned to ride,” Aaron announced, his gaze drilling Shane. “You’re nearly ten. That’s practically too old to even start, so you’ll have to work hard to catch up.”

  “Doesn’t that sound fun?” Katie asked cheerfully. “You’ll enjoy being able to ride around the ranch.”

  “Don’t want to,” Shane muttered under his breath. He never looked up from his plate. He wasn’t eating. Katie’s heart went out to her son. She’d had no idea that living with her father was going to make Shane so miserable.

  Suzanne leaned toward the boy. “Horses are kind of big,” she murmured conspiratorially. “I was scared of them for a long time, but once I learned to ride, I found I really liked it.”

  “Quit coddling the boy,” Aaron instructed from across the table. He slapped his hand on the wood, making them all jump. “We’ll get you started this weekend.”

  Katie shook her head. “Dad, let him ride in his own time. If you force him, he’ll just hate it.”

  Her father glared at her. “You tellin’ me how to raise the boy? Between us, me and Suzanne have eight children. You have one.”

  Katie looked at her father and wondered when the man had changed. Her mother had died eighteen years before, the victim of a wild spring storm and the subsequent flash flood. Aaron had remarried within a year, taking gentle Suzanne, a divorced woman with two daughters, as his wife. Together they’d had two more children.

  Had the trouble with her father started with his first wife’s death? Katie didn’t think so. Aaron’s anger, his unyielding temperament, had existed for as long as Katie could remember. She’d never stood up to him before, but now she didn’t have a choice.

  She set down her fork. “Shane isn’t yours to raise, Dad. He’s my son, and I’m responsible for him. If he’s not ready to start riding, that’s fine with me.”

  Aaron shoved a forkful of food into his mouth. His color had darkened, giving his face a reddish hue, but he didn’t say anything. Suzanne, a petite blonde with gentle green eyes, patted Katie’s hand. “Give Shane space. He’ll get used to our ways.”

  But later that night, when she put her son to bed, Katie wasn’t so sure. Maybe moving back to Lone Star Canyon had been a mistake. Shane had been happy in Dallas. Except he hadn’t had a male role model there. She’d thought here he would have his grandfather and uncles. She’d taken him out of school mid-semester and moved him into her father’s house, where the boy had to endure nightly lectures over dinner. Was she a horrible mother for that?

  She bent and kissed her son’s cheek. “Grandpa doesn’t mean to make things hard on you.”

  Shane wrinkled his nose. “He’s too loud and he never listens. I’m not like him. I’m not like anyone here.”

  Katie’s throat tightened. “Your teacher says you’re doing really well in school. I spoke to her today. She’d heard about the fight and wanted me to know that you hadn’t started it. Apparently those older boys are real bullies. Their parents are sending them off to boarding school so they can get straightened out. You won’t have to worry about them again.”

  Shane looked at her with big blue eyes. “If I don’t do what Grandpa says, will you send me away?”

  “Of course not,” she said quickly, gathering her son close. Tears burned but she blinked them back. “I love you. You’re my favorite person in the whole world. I’d be lost without you. Besides, I happen to think you’re an incredibly great kid. I’m proud of you, Shane. Always.”

  “Grandpa doesn’t like me much.”

  She lowered him to the bed and grinned. “Some days I don’t think Grandpa likes anyone.”

  Shane smiled in return. “’Cept those cows.”

  “Right. He adores his cows.”

  She kissed her son again, then turned off the light. Right or wrong, they were here. They would have to make the best of it. Maybe she should try talking to her father, she thought as she stepped into the hallway. Or maybe she should just take Shane and move into a hotel until their house was finished. If things didn’t get better, she wasn’t going to have a choice.

  Chapter Three

  J ack lined up the cans of oil so they would be ready to pour into the truck. Changing the oil in the ranch vehicles generally fell to someone lower on the food chain, but these days, with his mom mostly confined to the house, he preferred to stay close to home. So he’d taken over the chore of getting the vehicles in shape for spring roundup. Which meant every truck and car on the ranch got its oil changed.

  The old Dodge four-by-four was battered. There were deep gouges in both doors, and the once red paint had faded some from long days in the sun. But despite the cosmetic problems, the truck had never once failed or left him stranded. His father had always told him to take care of his equipment and it would take care of him.

  Jack frowned at the memory. He didn’t usually allow himself to think about his father. Russell Darby had walked out on his family eighteen years ago and had never once looked back. He’d not been in touch with any of his children, not to mention his wife. Hell of a legacy, Jack thought grimly.

  A small sound caught his attention. He turned toward the noise, grateful for the interruption. Long ago he’d taught himself to avoid any thoughts of his father, and he didn’t want to break the habit now. He saw a boy standing just inside the open double doors of the oversize garage. Even without the sunlight glinting off wire-rimmed glasses, he would have recognized the child.

  Shane Fitzgerald had the look of the Fitzgerald family about him. Blond hair, blue eyes, stubborn chin. Aaron’s chin. Jack could also see Katie in the boy—Katie and someone else. The boy’s father.

  “Hello, Shane,” Jack said pleasantly.

  Shane took a step closer to him. “Mom says I’m supposed to stay out of the way. She’s up at the house helpin’ Mrs. Darby.”

  “I know.”

  There was something tentative about the boy. An air of caution that made him seem smaller and younger. Normally Jack didn’t make much time for children—they weren’t a part of his world. But for some reason he found himself wanting to make Shane feel comfortable.

  “I’m changing the oil in the truck,” Jack said. “You’re welcome to stay and watch. Or you can help me.”

  Shane took another step forward. He wore a long-sleeved shirt tucked into jeans. He was skinny—the belt around his waist was the only thing that kept his pants in place. The boy pushed up his glasses in a nervous gesture.

  “I don’t know anything about cars and trucks.” His shoulders hunched as if he expected Jack to yell at him. “I watch the men change the oil in Mom’s car when she takes it in, but they’re underground and it’s hard to see anything.”

  “I know what you mean,” Jack said. He studied the child. He wasn’t a strapping boy, and he hadn’t been raised on a ranch. He was obviously interested in his surroundings, but also frightened of them. Was Aaron taking the time to make the child feel at home? Jack had his doubts.

  “Come here,” Jack said, motioning to the truck. “I’ll give you a lift up so you can see the engine, then I’ll tell you what all the parts are.”

  Shane’s expression turned eager. He moved closer until Jack could loop one arm around the boy’s slender waist and hoist him to the bumper. Shane stood there, leaning against Jack. The kid didn’t weigh much more than the ranch dogs, he thought with some surprise.

  “We put the oil in there,” Jack said, pointing. “I’m draining the dirty oil now. Then I’ll replace the oil filter and put in new oil.”

  He patiently explained the various parts of the engine and how they helped make the truck go. Next he grabbed a second dolly so Shane could slide under the truck with him.

  “Careful of that oil,” he instructed as Shane scooted next to him. “You get it on your clothes, your mom’ll kill me. You get it in your eye and Doc Remington’ll do it to me, instead.”

  Shane giggled. He pushed on the bridge of his glasses. “These will keep me safe.”

  “Not
from your mom.”

  Shane watched as Jack loosened the oil filter and pulled it free. He showed the boy the clean replacement, and they compared them.

  “Now we put a drop of clean oil around the seal at the top.”

  “To make it stick?” Shane asked eagerly.

  “That’s right. You catch on fast.”

  The simple compliment made the kid glow. Jack found himself wanting to say other nice things to Shane, although he wasn’t sure what.

  “How do you like living in Lone Star Canyon?” he asked.

  Shane shrugged. He rested his heels against the concrete and rolled himself back and forth a couple of inches. “It’s okay.”

  Something in the boy’s voice alerted Jack to the fact that there was more to his answer. He waited patiently. Shane continued to roll on the dolly. Finally he took a deep breath.

  “I always liked my grandpa’s ranch, so I was happy when Mom said we were moving there. Except it’s different living there. It’s bigger and kinda scary. And I miss my friends in Dallas, only I can’t tell my mom ’cause I don’t want her to worry more than she does. And Grandpa’s real loud.”

  Jack wasn’t sure what to do with all that information. He decided to start with something easy. “Have you started making friends here?”

  Another shrug. “I guess. Some. The boys are different. They all ride and stuff. I like computers.”

  “You’ll find boys who share your interests. Even if you don’t, you can still be friends. Come on. We’re done under here.”

  They slid from under the truck. Jack stood, then held out his hand to help the boy scramble to his feet. Shane shifted his weight from foot to foot.

  “What if they don’t like me?” he asked without looking at Jack. “My mom’s boyfriend didn’t like me much. He never said anything, but I could tell.” He glanced up, his eyes bigger than usual, his expression troubled. “I think that’s why we moved away. And now that we’re here, I don’t think Grandpa likes me very much, either.”

  Jack’s chest tightened, but he didn’t have any words of wisdom to offer. Instead he put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and squeezed.

  “Shane, there you are.”

  They both glanced up and saw Katie standing in the entrance to the garage. She looked at them, then at the truck.

  “So what have you two been getting into?” she asked with a smile.

  “Shane’s been helping me change the oil. He’s really good with engines,” Jack said, earning a quick smile from the boy.

  “Is he? I’m not surprised. Shane is bright and generally successful at whatever he tries.”

  She stood with the light behind her so it was impossible to read her expression. Probably a good thing. Her body was distraction enough. Jack told himself that he wasn’t interested in women in general and Katie in particular. He told himself that the thrust of her breasts and the roundness of her hips didn’t interest him. He told himself that the fact that he knew she kissed hotter than any other woman he’d ever known was meaningless.

  He lied.

  As much as he didn’t want to acknowledge the truth, he couldn’t help the fire that seemed to spring up from nowhere and settle in his groin. He’d managed to ignore it the past couple of times he’d seen her, but now it threatened to consume him. It was just desire, he told himself. A lust for sex didn’t much matter. It was only biology. At least she no longer engaged his heart.

  Misty, the Lab-shepherd mix ranch dog, trotted into the barn. She went up to Shane, sniffed him once then licked his hand. The boy giggled and, when she ran out of the barn, he chased after her.

  “Was he a bother?” Katie asked when they were alone.

  “No. I meant what I said. He was a help.”

  She smiled. Again he noticed how time had changed her face, age adding beauty by defining her bone structure more clearly. Experience and wisdom darkened her eyes, making him wonder about the years she’d been away. What lessons had she learned and how had they made her different?

  Wait a minute, he told himself firmly. He was not interested in Katie in any way and he didn’t want to know about her personal life—changes or no changes.

  “I doubt he did more than get in the way,” she said, “but thank you for being kind.”

  “I wasn’t. I like him. He’s a good kid. You’ve done a great job.”

  “You think so?” She tucked her hands into the pockets of her tailored slacks. Even in her low-heeled pumps she barely came to his shoulder. “My father wouldn’t agree. He thinks Shane isn’t man enough.” She hesitated, then looked at him. “I heard what Shane said. About Aaron not liking him.”

  “Is it true?”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head. Her blond curls fluttered around her face. “Actually I do know. I just don’t want to admit it to myself.”

  “Shane isn’t what your father is used to. He’ll come around.”

  Katie raised her eyebrows. “I know you don’t believe that for a second. My father invented the word stubborn.” She dropped her hands to her sides, then moved closer to the truck. She rested a hand on the hood and studied the windshield. “Shane likes to read and do things on his computer. I don’t think my father has read a book in years, and he still does his account books by hand. They don’t have much in common. Shane is a child of the future, and Aaron is firmly entrenched in the past.”

  “That doesn’t mean he can’t love his grandson.”

  “Maybe.” But she didn’t sound convinced. She looked out the open door. “You’ve made a lot of changes around here. Not that I was a frequent visitor, but I can tell you’ve updated a lot. Obviously you don’t share my father’s love of the past.”

  “Agreed.”

  Jack avoided the past whenever possible. If he didn’t he could get lost there. Even now it taunted him with memories of how it had been between Katie and himself. How she’d looked and tasted when he kissed her. The feel of her skin again his hand. He remembered their first kiss and their last, the first and only time he’d touched her breasts. If he let himself, he could get caught up in the longing to have been the first man to know her intimately.

  “I admire what you’ve done here,” she said.

  He told himself the compliment didn’t matter even as he enjoyed hearing it. “I had good role models. Old Bill Smith was the foreman for nearly twenty years. He believed in using new technology if it saved time and money.”

  “Any regrets about staying?” she asked.

  He didn’t like the question. “I told you before. I’m content with my life.”

  “I know, but I was hoping for something more.”

  “A confession? I don’t have any.”

  She tried to smile, but it wobbled at the corners then faded altogether. “Gee, and I have too many.” She took a step toward the door and paused. “Thanks for taking the time with Shane. I know you’re busy.”

  “I meant what I said, Katie. I enjoyed his company. He’s a bright boy.”

  “Not everyone has figured that out. You were one of the good guys back when I was Shane’s age, and it looks like you still are.”

  He watched her walk away. Her hips swayed. Her curls danced. She moved into the sunlight like an angel of God returning home.

  Jack blinked. Where the hell had that thought come from? Was he getting soft or something? No way was he interested in Katie. Except for occasional sex, he did not do relationships, and he wasn’t going to risk any entanglements, sexual or otherwise, with someone like her. She’d always been trouble and that hadn’t changed. Besides, he’d learned his lesson. Women didn’t stay with him very long. Why get all wound up about something that was bound to end?

  He stared through the open door, saw her call for her son, then step into her Explorer. He ignored the unexpected ache in his gut, ignored the fact that it was mighty similar to the ache he’d felt when she’d left eleven years before. There was no way she still mattered. Not after all this time.

  Even so, he would do his bes
t to avoid her. Keeping his distance had always been the safest route. If he hadn’t known that when he’d been a teenager, he’d learned it in spades as a man.

  Katie closed Shane’s bedroom door and sighed. Her son was finally asleep. Despite his usual quiet demeanor at dinner, the rest of the evening had been spent with him chattering about his time with Jack. How he’d helped with the oil change. How Jack had explained the different parts of the truck engine to him. How Jack seemed to like him.

  It broke her heart that her nine-year-old son worried that adults didn’t like him. Unfortunately she knew exactly where that fear came from. First from Shane’s father, who had walked out of his life before he was born and had never reappeared, then from her father, who couldn’t say a single pleasant word to the boy.

  “Katie?”

  Speak of the devil, she thought as she turned and saw her father approaching.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  Her father didn’t respond to her greeting. Judging by his closed, angry expression, he wasn’t going to.

  “In my office. Now.”

  She thought about protesting. She wasn’t a little girl any more. She didn’t like him ordering her around. Then she glanced at her son’s closed door and knew that if she got into it with her father here in the hall, Shane would hear everything.

  “I would be delighted to join you for a few minutes,” she said lightly. “Lead the way.”

  Aaron glared at her, as if suspecting sarcasm, then turned on his heel and headed down the hall. Two minutes later they were in his office at the back of the house.

  A fire burned briskly in the fireplace and chased away the chill. This twenty-by-twenty room was her father’s domain and always had been. A large desk sat in the middle of the floor. Worn chairs flanked it. There were a couple of bookshelves, trophy animal heads mounted on the paneled walls and a large calendar featuring cattle opposite the desk.