Harlequin Superromance January 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: A Ranch for His FamilyCowgirl in High HeelsA Man to Believe In

by Hope Navarre

  It took them less than twenty minutes to reach Jake’s quarter-horse ranch. Neal walked in the front door and turned toward the hall leading to the bedrooms. He wasn’t in the mood to spend the evening with Connie and the kids.

  Jake said, “I have something you need to see.”

  “Can’t it wait?”

  “I don’t think so. Step into my office for a minute.”

  Neal followed his brother to the small room made smaller by a massive wooden desk and tall bookshelves along one wall. Photos of Jake’s prize stallions and mares covered the remaining walls. He pulled three large leather-bound books from the shelf and handed them to Neal.

  “I needed some stud papers from Dad’s old office about a month ago. Mom was busy and couldn’t find them for me, so I went hunting for them. That’s when I found these in the bottom drawer of his desk. It was locked, but Mom had given me the key.”

  “What are they?”

  He opened one and laid it flat on his desk. “They’re scrapbooks. This is mine. It starts with my birth announcement and goes all the way to photos of my wedding.”

  What was so important about a bunch of old mementos? “So our mother likes to scrapbook. So what?”

  “They aren’t Mom’s. Dad put these together.”

  “Are you serious?” Neal took a closer look.

  “I was as surprised as you are. Mom knew that he kept them but never thought to mention it. This one is mine. These two are yours.” Jake held out a pair of matching maroon books.

  Neal opened the first one. His birth announcement graced the front page. After that came odds and ends of his childhood, including a picture he had drawn of a turkey using his hand as the outline. “Dad compiled all of this?”

  “Apparently. Open the other one. I wondered why there were two for you and only one for me.”

  Neal opened the second scrapbook. On the first page was a yellowed newspaper write-up about his first Little Britches rodeo win. As he leafed through the pages, numerous articles gathered from newspapers and printed from online detailed his rodeo career up until his win at the Wild Bill Hickok Rodeo in Abilene just two days before his father’s death.

  Neal looked at Jake for some kind of explanation. “He hated the fact that I made a career out of bull riding. Why would he do this?”

  “Apparently, he didn’t hate what you do. I think he was very proud of what you accomplished. You only have to look at what’s in your hand to see that.”

  “Why not tell me? He never had a single good thing to say about my riding. Nothing I did measured up to his yardstick.”

  “Dad was a man who didn’t believe in coddling his kids or heaping praise on anyone. He kept his emotions locked inside. Was it because of the way he was raised? I doubt we’ll ever know.”

  “I thought he was jealous of my success. I thought he couldn’t stand the idea that I was a better rider than he was.”

  “He may have been, for all I know. Mom believes he resented having to give up the rodeo to take care of the ranch and us. But these books tell a different story.”

  Neal ran his hand over the carefully placed bits of paper and photos in the book. It made no sense.

  Jake returned his book to the shelf and looked at Neal. “Is this what you want Chance to discover after you’re gone? Do you want him to have to wait until you’re dead to find out how much you loved him and how proud you were of all he accomplished?”

  Neal blinked back tears. “No. Do you know what I would have given for an inkling of how Dad felt about anything I did? He never encouraged me, never told me to go for my dreams.”

  “Maybe that was because he didn’t want you to resent giving them up the way he had to do when his family needed him more.”

  “We’re guessing. We’ll never know for sure.”

  “I know you always thought he loved me best. Of course, I am the oldest, the best looking and the smartest. However, I have one scrapbook and you have two. You should look through them. He wrote a few notes in the margins you may want to read.”

  Jake left the room, and Neal spent the next two hours readjusting his entire concept of his father. One note in the margin stuck out more than the others. It said, “Neal’s a true chip off the old block.”

  If there was one thing he didn’t want to be, it was a chip off the block that his father had presented to his sons. Neal wanted to be a father who treasured his child’s every accomplishment, not in some leather-bound shrine but in words and deeds. In praise and encouragement. That was the way to bring up a son.

  Neal closed the books and returned them to Jake’s shelf.

  What Robyn had done was wrong. He deserved to know his son and Chance deserved to know him. Neal needed to understand what had driven her to make such a choice. He needed to hear her side of the story.

  He loved her, but he wasn’t sure she would ever trust him again. The only way to find out was to stick around and be the best kind of man and the best kind of father he could be. If it wasn’t enough for her, he would accept that, but he wasn’t leaving. No champion belt buckle was worth more than his family.

  Somehow, he knew his father would agree.

  He left the office and found Jake watching TV in the living room. Jake shut the set off as soon as he caught sight of Neal. “It’s an amazing collection, isn’t it?”

  “Eye-opening. Jake, I need a job. Any suggestions?”

  Jake grinned. “I was hoping you would say that. I’m expanding my breeding program to include Appaloosas. I recently bought a nice little ranch nearby. What would you think about managing that part of my operation?”

  “For a salary or for shares?”

  “Shares? You’re getting ahead of yourself, little brother. It’s all my capital. Salary for now, but you could live on the place rent-free until the program starts turning a profit, and then we will talk about shares.”

  “I’ve seen some really good pickup riders on Appaloosas. They’ve got heart. Would you let me train some for that?”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of raising and training roping and cutting horses, but I’m always open to new ideas. I would need someone with some good inside rodeo contacts for that, wouldn’t I?”

  Neal smiled. “Yes, you would.”

  * * *

  ROBYN WENT THROUGH the motions and managed to get through each day, but she desperately wanted to speak to Neal. When she questioned Ellie about him, Robyn didn’t learn anything new. Only that he had been in contact with Jake but not with his mother.

  Surprised by the information, she was even more surprised when Ellie explained the reason one evening when she had come to visit Martha. Ellie had also suspected Chance was Neal’s son, and Neal blamed his mother for not telling him.

  Jake flatly refused her requests for information about Neal. “He’s fine,” he said when Robyn called him at his ranch.

  “Jake, I need to talk to him. Please, can’t you tell me how to get in touch with him? At least let me tell him Chance is doing well now. I know he would want to know that.”

  “He knows,” Jake assured her. “I’ve told him everything that’s happened. He’s doing what he needs to do. Don’t give up on him.”

  Encouraged by his words, she asked, “Do you think he can ever forgive me?”

  “He’s a stubborn man, but I believe he will, in time.”

  “Thanks, Jake. Tell him for me— Just tell him Chance misses him and asks about him every day.”

  Ellie became a frequent visitor at their new house, and while Robyn was glad for her mother’s sake, she still found it a painful reminder that Neal had chosen to stay away from her and from his son.

  “Jake has a renter for your old house. I understand he’s already moved in,” Ellie announced one afternoon when Chance had been home for a week. She sat with Mart
ha and Robyn on the front porch and watched Chance toss a small ball over and over to an eager Bell. They both still wore their matching blue casts.

  “I hope the new renter likes the place,” Martha said. “I know it’s silly, but I hate the idea of someone changing the wallpaper that Frank and I picked out together.”

  “You’ll have a chance to find out. Jake says the man found a box of photos and papers. They must belong to you.”

  Martha smiled brightly. “Oh, my goodness, I’ve been looking everywhere for the box with the photographs that belonged to my mother. I must have left them behind. Everything was such a jumble, what with Chance in the hospital and all. Oh, but I don’t think I can bear to go back out there yet. Robyn, do you think you could run out and pick them up?”

  “I don’t know if I’m ready to go back there yet, either.”

  “Please,” Martha pleaded. “Those photographs mean so much to me. They’re all I have left of my mother.”

  “All right, I’ll go out in the morning.”

  “Good.” Ellie stood. “I’ll have Jake let the man know you’re coming. Martha, walk me to my car, won’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  Beside her car, Ellie glanced back at Robyn and Chance still sitting on the porch and waved. She and Martha exchanged a few words and a brief hug; then Ellie drove off.

  Robyn pulled into her old driveway the next morning and for a moment she thought she would cry after all. It wasn’t because she missed the buildings or the corrals or the flowers along the walk. It was because everything in front of her reminded her of Neal.

  The last time he’d kissed her they had been standing in front of the white picket gate before they left to go to the fair. She had been so happy that morning, and yet her life had been turned upside down and nearly destroyed only a few hours later.

  It seemed that since the accident, every minute of her life had been devoted to caring for Chance. Now, with Chance on the road to a full recovery, she found herself at a loss. All she could think about was Neal.

  Where was he? She’d pored over the rodeo news, but there was never any mention of his name. Was he all right? She could only hope that one day she would have the chance to tell him how sorry she was for the way she had treated him.

  Stepping out of the truck, she saw a man down in the corral beside the barn. The cowboy held the front hoof of a small white horse between his knees. He was bent over and his black hat obscured his face as he filed the hoof with a large rasp. Apparently, he hadn’t heard her drive in. She looked more closely at the horse. Was that Babe?

  Moving toward the corral, Robyn’s heart began to hammer painfully in her chest. There was something familiar about the man, too, but she didn’t dare hope.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  BABE WAS BECOMING impatient with the process of getting his hoof filed. Neal felt the little horse shifting his weight from one hind leg to the other, but Neal was determined to finish the job he’d started. Never at a loss to try to gain attention, Babe reached his head around and flipped Neal’s hat off.

  “You worthless piece of buzzard bait,” Neal muttered. “You’re not getting off this time. We’re going to finish your feet whether you like it or not. Do you want to wind up lame? Robyn will rip me up one side and down the other if I let that happen.”

  Babe tossed his head and tried to pull away, but Neal held on to his hoof. Babe changed his tactics. After pulling a mouthful of hay from the bale in front of him, the little horse swung his head around and flung it on Neal’s bare neck.

  Dropping Babe’s hoof, Neal stood up as the leaves and stalks of alfalfa trickled down inside his shirt. “You miserable nag.”

  He threw down his file, yanked off his gloves and began to unbutton his shirt. “I’m going to make glue out of you yet.” He took off his shirt, shook it out then brushed at the back of his neck and his hair with both hands. A sharp indrawn hiss of breath alerted him to the presence of someone else. He looked up and met Robyn’s wide eyes across the fence. He wasn’t prepared to face her yet.

  “Neal, what are you doing here?”

  He swallowed hard. “I live here now. How is Chance?”

  “He’s better. He thinks it’s cool that he and Bell have matching casts. You live here?”

  “Yes.” At least she wasn’t shouting at him.

  He put his shirt back on and picked up his hat. This was his chance to convince her nothing like that would ever happen again. “Robyn, I need to say how sorry I am for almost getting him killed. It was stupid. There wasn’t any reason to prove I was still the big, brave, bull rider. I hope you believe me, and I hope someday you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I will never, ever put my needs in front of his needs again. I swear that to you on my life.”

  When she didn’t say anything, he looked down and kicked the dirt with his boot.

  * * *

  TEARS STUNG ROBYN’S eyes as she saw the pain on his face. She wanted to throw her arms around him and hold him close. She gripped the fence with both hands, struggling to put all her regrets into words. “I’m so sorry for the hurtful things I said to you, for the way I treated you. I’m sorry for so many things. I’m sorry that I tried to make you into something you couldn’t be. I’m sorry I ran away instead of facing what was wrong between us, and I am so very, very sorry that I kept your son away from you.”

  He stood with his head bowed, and she waited for him to speak. He looked at her finally. “You were dead wrong about that.”

  “I know.” A tear trickled down her cheek.

  He reached the fence in two long strides and gripped the rail. “Help me understand why you did it. Tell me about Colin.”

  She drew a ragged breath and faced him squarely. “I was so hurt by your betrayal, but more than that, I was angry with you for not needing me the way I needed you. I couldn’t see then what I realize now. We were headstrong kids, both too stubborn to try to change. Too stubborn to admit we were wrong, or even that we needed help.”

  “I did need you, Robyn. I just didn’t know how much until after you were gone.”

  She studied his face as she asked the question that had haunted her days and nights. “Why didn’t you ask me to come back?”

  He looked down and scuffed the dirt with the toe of his boot. “Because I was ashamed. I betrayed you—my best friend. And I betrayed myself. I didn’t much care for the man who looked back at me in the mirror for those next few months. I knew you wanted a life away from the rodeo circuit, a home and kids and a husband who wasn’t putting his life on the line day after day. When you didn’t come back, I figured it was because you’d finally realized I wasn’t the man who could give you those things.”

  “Neal, I did want those things, but I wanted them with you.”

  “After what I did, I knew you deserved better. Besides, a man has to have some pride. I couldn’t find it in me to beg you to come back.”

  “I thought you didn’t want me.”

  He stared at her face for a long moment and then said quietly, “Tweety, I’ve wanted you every single day and every single night since the day we first made love when we were seventeen.”

  She turned away from him. All this time. All this wasted time and heartache because they had been too proud, too hurt and stubborn to face each other. They’d wound up running away from each other instead of trying to save the friendship and love they shared.

  She looked at the bright blue sky overhead. A lone hawk rode the air currents in wide lazy circles. She was tired of being alone. She had to find a way back to him. Please, God, let me make him understand. Let me get this right.

  She began to speak softly. “My father recovered from his first stroke, but I could see he would never be as strong as he had been. He and Mom were going to need me to help take care of him sooner or later. When he was in t
he hospital, one of his nurses told me about a two-year nursing program at the junior college. I thought it would be a good way to stay close to home and have a job where I could do some good.”

  She gave a wry laugh. “Nurses are always needed. Anyway, I enrolled and started the program in less than a month. I met Colin my first day of class. He was so pale and thin. My mothering instincts took off full blast. He was someone who really needed me.”

  She stopped and looked at Neal. “I don’t want you to think it was merely pity, because it wasn’t. We became good friends. He was so full of life, so determined to beat his illness. He joked about it all the time.”

  She could picture Colin’s infectious grin even now, and she smiled softly.

  “What was wrong with him?”

  “He had Hodgkin’s disease, a form of cancer that often strikes young adults. He never made a secret of it. I think he wanted me to understand right from the start that he might not have a long life. I knew, but I was still terrified when he had an acute attack and was hospitalized.”

  She gazed at Neal’s impassive face. “After all, I had already lost one best friend, or so I thought.”

  “He was a lucky man to have found you.”

  “Soon after that, I discovered I was pregnant. I didn’t know what to do. I told Colin. He said I should tell you, but I didn’t know how. I wrote you a dozen letters, but I couldn’t send any of them.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I was afraid.”

  “Of what?”

  “I was afraid you wouldn’t care one way or the other. At least, that’s what I told myself.”

  She tilted her head, studying his tall, lean form. She saw so much in him that reminded her of Chance. His long, sturdy fingers, the shape of his eyebrows and the way his lips tightened when he was angry.

  “In reality, I wanted to hurt you as badly as you’d hurt me. Not very noble of me, was it?”

  His lips tightened then, but she knew it wasn’t anger. It was pain.

  “Besides, I was afraid of trapping you. You were always so carefree. That wild Bryant boy, so full of adventure and so eager to see what was over the next hill. I knew what the rodeo meant to you. I didn’t want to destroy that. In my own stupid way, I was trying to protect you. You would have insisted we get married, and you would have resented it every single day.”