A Rancher’s Surrender

by Michelle Beattie

  It was clear the girl was both frightened and awed by what she’d seen.

  “Adults can do stupid things sometimes, Annabelle. And it’s of their own doing. You’re not to blame.”

  The little girl slipped her hand in Jillian’s as she fixed trusting eyes on her. Warmth spread through Jillian’s chest and she squeezed Annabelle’s hand.

  “Now, you haven’t answered my question. Does your father or anyone else know where you are?”

  She looked down, shuffled dirt with her boot. “No, ma’am,” she answered.

  Clearly, she expected to be sent right back. Though the sun was sliding toward the horizon, dusk wouldn’t be upon them for at least another hour. There’d be plenty of time to get Annabelle home before then.

  “I have a goat and a raccoon in the barn; would you like to see them?”

  Annabelle’s gaze flew to Jillian’s. Her excitement was tangible. “Yes’m, I would!”

  Before Jillian could say anything else she found herself being tugged toward the barn.

  *

  Wade’s heart pounded in his throat as he ripped up the stairs, flung the door open.

  “Annabelle!”

  He smelled his own sweat, his own fear. His voice echoed off the empty log walls. He’d already checked the house once when he’d come to fetch her to go fishing. She hadn’t been there. But he’d checked the barns, too, and by the river. She hadn’t been at either place. He’d thought maybe they’d somehow missed each other and tried her room again but it was as empty as it had been the first time.

  “Annabelle!”

  He raced down the steps and out the front door.

  “Annabelle!”

  Scott came running from his bunkhouse. Shirtless, with boots hastily yanked over his pants and a rifle in his left hand, he sped around the corrals toward Wade.

  “What’s happened?”

  “When was the last time you saw Annabelle?”

  “At supper. No, wait! I went back in about an hour ago, had a piece of cake. She was heading outside. You said you two were going fishing so I figured she was going to meet you.”

  Wade’s mouth was so dry it made talking difficult. “No. I told her I had a few things to finish first. I can’t find her anywhere.”

  “Could she be with your ma and James? If they went on a walk maybe she went along? She’s done it before.”

  His ma. Wade heaved a breath, wiped the sweat off his upper lip with the sleeve of his shirt. He hadn’t thought of that and yet he should have, since he hadn’t seen either James or his ma as he’d searched for his daughter.

  “Yeah, that makes sense,” Wade took another breath. “It’s this business with Steven. I thought maybe…”

  Scott placed a reassuring hand on Wade’s shoulder. “I’m no friend of Steven’s, either; I barely know the man, but I can’t see him going after a little girl to settle a score with you.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.” Well, pretty sure. Still, Wade wouldn’t breathe easy until he saw his daughter. “I’ll saddle Whiskey. It’ll be faster to catch up to them that way.”

  His hands were steady as he tacked his horse. He’d panicked, but now reason took over. His daughter was fine; she was with her grandma. He’d assumed the worst because his talk with Shane was still fresh in his mind. The more he thought about it, the better he felt. That didn’t mean, however, that she wasn’t going to be scolded for scaring ten years off her father’s life.

  The air outside the barn was beginning to dampen. He could hear the frogs singing in the long grass as he led Whiskey out. The corral pen slammed to his left. Scott had his horse—the only thing he had come with five years ago other than a bag over his shoulder—by the halter. He’d put on a shirt, though he hadn’t bothered tucking it into his pants.

  “Forget your saddle?”

  “Don’t have time.” He gestured over Wade’s shoulder.

  Wade knew even before he looked, before Scott’s words confirmed it. James and his ma had indeed gone for a walk and, hand in hand, were walking into the yard. Annabelle wasn’t with them. The bottom fell out of Wade’s stomach.

  “Peanut’s gone as well,” Scott said of Annabelle’s pony.

  How had he not noticed the pony was gone? Because I was blinded by panic. And because they had a rule about her riding alone.

  “Maybe they saw her,” Wade said, leaping into the saddle.

  His mother looked as scared as he felt when he told her Annabelle wasn’t to be found. “We didn’t see her.”

  “When was the last time you did?”

  “She helped me with the supper dishes and then she went upstairs.”

  Wade’s heart was pounding. He stood in the stirrups, looked around. Nothing moved but grass and leaves.

  “Scott saw her about an hour ago.”

  “She’s on Peanut,” Scott said. He was riding bareback, the only one of them who could do it and still retain absolute control of his horse.

  “I was around the yard the whole time,” Wade said. “I don’t know how she could have slipped past me.”

  “You did it all the time,” his ma said, placing her hand on his leg. “It’s amazing how fast you could disappear when you had a place in mind.”

  “Yeah, but where would Annabelle want to-Jillian!” Wade exclaimed though the thought of possibly knowing his daughter’s whereabouts didn’t ease his fear. Not with what Shane had told him earlier.

  “Stay here in case we’re wrong. Scott and I will go to Jillian’s.”

  “Take this,” James said, handing over his Colt.

  Wade still hadn’t come to terms with the idea of needing to carry a weapon everywhere he went but in this case he didn’t argue. If his daughter were in danger, he wouldn’t hesitate to use it. Besides, there were rifles in the house so James wouldn’t be unarmed. Wade jammed the revolver in his waistband and tore out of the yard.

  Beside him, with his hands in the horse’s mane as he bent over it, Scott kept pace. Now that the wind had died, dust hung in the air behind them. The road to Jillian’s contained several small knolls and it was as they crested the third that they saw two riders approaching. One was on a pony.

  Wade eased on the reins and slowed Whiskey to a walk. The horse’s heavy breathing matched his own. As the distance between the animals closed, his daughter had the good sense to look contrite.

  “Annabelle, what were you thinking riding away like that without telling anyone?” He demanded. Though he didn’t yell, there was no masking his irritation either. “You scared us all.”

  Annabelle wouldn’t meet her father’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Papa. Everyone was busy and I just wanted to talk to Miss Matthews for a bit.”

  “You could have asked, Annabelle, and if we were busy it could have waited until tomorrow.”

  She nodded, kept her head down.

  “Scott, you mind taking her home? I won’t be long.”

  “No problem. Come on, Button. Nice to see you again, Jillian.”

  “And you,” Jillian replied.

  “Annabelle.” Wade caught her reins as she moved by. He waited until his daughter finally met his gaze. “After you take care of Peanut, clean up and get ready for bed. I’ll be home soon.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “We’re not going fishing, are we?”

  He leaned over, kissed her forehead. “Not tonight. We’ll talk about what you did and how you scared everyone when I get back.”

  She sighed, turned to Jillian. “Thanks, Miss Matthews. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, Annabelle,” Jillian answered.

  Wade waited until Scott and Annabelle had disappeared over the hill. He hadn’t planned on anything but finding his daughter. Now that he had, however, and he knew she was safe, his mind shifted to the woman before him.

  She wore no bonnet to protect her face and Wade had come to realize he liked that about her. He liked seeing her hair. His loins swelled as he thought about what it had felt like to touch that hair, to have it draped over him as
she’d kissed him. Before he truly realized his intent, he’d swung off Whiskey and was at Hope’s side.

  Jillian’s cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink that had nothing to do with the sun’s setting rays. She leaned into him. His hands clasped her around the waist. He deliberately eased her slowly down the length of his body, feeling her breasts slide down his chest. She smelled of fresh air and her own subtle scent that wrapped around him the same way it had last night.

  Her green eyes searched his, her soft hands rested on his shoulders.

  “I’m sorry you were worried.”

  He’d been terrified, but now that his daughter was safe and Jillian was in his arms, his attention was easily diverted. Since walking away last night, he’d relived every touch, every kiss. Her mouth lifted to his and damned if he was going to waste the invitation.

  The moment her soft lips opened under his, his grip tightened and he pulled her hard against him. The same satisfied moan he’d heard several times last night escaped her as their tongues danced, explored. She set him on fire until he either had to step away or he’d take her right there on the road. The thought wasn’t without merit, but the location was wrong. And he’d meant what he’d said last night; he couldn’t make her promises.

  With a last gentle nip on her mouth, he ended the kiss.

  “How are you?”

  She smiled, wound her arms around his neck. “Better now.”

  Oh, hell, he was in trouble. Before he gave in to temptation and ravaged her again, he gently pulled her hands from his neck and stepped back.

  “It would be easy, Jillian,” he said when he saw the disappointment on her face, “to kiss you again. To make love with you. But—”

  “But you can’t make promises. I remember.”

  “I think we both have enough complications in our lives, don’t you?”

  She clasped her hands together. “Shane told you about Steven?”

  “This afternoon.”

  “I know what he wants. He’s trying to scare me out of town.” Her chin rose defiantly. “He won’t succeed.”

  “It’s not you personally he has a problem with, it’s what you do.”

  Jillian threw up her hands. “Why is what I do so hard to accept? I’m not a whore! I don’t steal. I help animals and for that I’m being punished? Why?”

  Here was a chance to try to explain where folks were coming from, why they thought the way they did. Why he thought the way he did. If he could get her to understand, if he could get her to reconsider being a vet then maybe…

  “It’s a man’s job to take care of his family, Jillian. From the beginning of time that’s the way it’s been. Men work, provide for their families while the women tend the home and the children.”

  “Women teach in schools. Letty works the mercantile; Mrs. Hollingsworth runs a boarding house. Why is that all right but what I do so wrong?”

  “It’s different. You do a man’s work, Jillian, and it’s hard and dangerous. You could get hurt. You can be called upon any time of day, in any kind of weather, making it even more inappropriate for a woman. And,” he said, warming to his argument, “Letty and Mrs. Hollingsworth’s work doesn’t put them in harm’s way.”

  “Since neither Steven nor his friends even like me, why would they care if I got hurt? And the same argument stands for the time of day I could be called upon to tend an animal. What I do would never affect them personally.” Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “You’re not talking about them. You’re talking about yourself, aren’t you?”

  The steel in her gaze didn’t bode well for him.

  “Jillian—”

  Her fists jammed onto her hips. “You lied. You told me the reason you couldn’t make promises was because you had too much to deal with at the moment. But it’s because of what I do, isn’t it?”

  Hell, there wasn’t a good to answer that.

  “Jillian—”

  “Don’t ‘Jillian’ me!” Hope shied at the shout and Jillian grabbed the reins before Hope could bolt.

  Wade took in her narrowed eyes, her small fisted hands. He had a bad feeling he’d already dug himself too deep a hole. It shouldn’t matter, given the fact she was right, that it was his thoughts he’d been discussing. But suddenly it mattered very much.

  “All right, yes, it’s how I feel.” He raised his palms. “But I’d never hurt you over it.”

  Jillian’s gaze could cut glass. “Does that make everything all right to you? You kissed me, made love to me.”

  “I didn’t lie to you.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Well, you weren’t honest either.”

  “I’m in debt up to here.” He slashed his throat with his finger. “I can’t possibly think about bringing a wife into that. And I do have a daughter to consider. And a ranch to run and—”

  “Tell me this, then. If I had come to town as the schoolteacher, or if I were a seamstress, would we be having this discussion? Would you be refusing to be with me? Refusing to make promises?”

  Wade ran a hand around the back of his neck. He was sweating again and his palm came away damp.

  “That’s what I thought.” Jillian stuck her foot in the stirrup, lifted herself into the saddle, and adjusted her skirts.

  Wade grabbed Hope’s reins. “You make it sound simple, that it’s black or white. It’s not. Look at this.” He gestured to the rifle she had tied to the saddle. “Your home, your possessions have been attacked because of what you do. You can’t go anywhere anymore without carrying a rifle.”

  “That’s because of Steven and his friends!”

  “It’s because of what you do!” He took a deep breath, tried again. “I’ve never feared for Annabelle the way I did tonight.”

  *

  Jillian tried to wrestle away the reins but Wade held fast. They weren’t done yet. He wanted her to understand.

  “Annabelle was never in any danger.” Hurt darkened her eyes. “I’ve come to care for her. I’d never let anything happen to her.”

  “Not on purpose, no. But she rode to your place alone. Anything could have befallen her. Don’t you see?” He pleaded.

  “I’ll tell you what I see,” Jillian said. “You didn’t know about any of what’s happened at my house until today. And it was last night when you told me you couldn’t make promises, so your mind was already set. The rest is just excuses.”

  “It’s not an excuse! It’s—”

  “I’ve already lived through this once!” she shouted. “I thought you were different, that you were a better man than Clint.”

  Wade felt as though he’d been punched. “Who the hell is Clint?”

  “The man I was engaged to before he decided that what I did wasn’t proper. Before he told me that once we were married he wouldn’t allow me to be a doctor.”

  Wade reeled. She’d been engaged?

  But Jillian was like a freight train full of steam and before he could speak she was charging ahead. “From the time I decided to follow in my father’s footsteps, I’ve never wavered from my goal. And despite it being what I wanted most, I sacrificed a lot to pursue my dream. Because it was all I wanted. I never thought that would change.”

  Her voice cracked and Wade felt its effects as though he were being horsewhipped.

  “But after last night, I questioned whether it would be enough. I thought maybe there was more to life than what I had.” Her hands fisted over her breasts. Her eyes shone with pain. “And I considered sacrificing all of that for a chance to have a life with you and Annabelle, because I was stupid enough to think you believed in me. That maybe you loved me as much as I was coming to love you.”

  The earth shifted beneath his feet. She loved him? “If you were thinking of giving it up, then why are we arguing?”

  Jillian’s jaw dropped. “Why? Because when I considered giving it up it was because of the town. Because it wouldn’t accept me, not because you wouldn’t. If I stayed, it would be with the hope that one day they’d change their minds, that one day
I’d get to work at what I love. But now I see that you would never accept that. You’re just like Clint.”

  He felt like he was on the edge on the hill and his boots were losing purchase. Any minute now he’d tumble down.

  “Jillian, you’re not the only one who’s gone through this once already. Amy, my wife, decided after she had Annabelle that she wanted to be a midwife. I wasn’t happy about it, but I thought if it made her happy, what was the harm? She died, Jillian, riding out to deliver a baby. It was dark and something spooked her horse. She was thrown.”

  He shut his eyes and saw Amy lying there, broken and bleeding. By the time they’d found her, it had been hours since she’d fallen. They’d been too late to help her.

  “Annabelle lost her ma and I lost my wife. For what? If she’d been home that wouldn’t have happened.”

  “It could have. Did she never ride around the ranch?”

  His teeth set. “That’s different.”

  “No, it’s not. You’re just too narrow-minded to see it and you’re blaming Amy’s midwifery as the reason she died.”

  “She’d be alive if she hadn’t gone that night!”

  Jillian flinched. Wade heaved a breath. “I can’t put myself and Annabelle through that again.”

  “I’m not Amy, Wade.”

  He could see she was fighting tears and he wasn’t proud of it. But he needed to be clear, needed her to understand.

  “I know that. But in some ways you’re the same. A man, a family, will never be enough for you. You’ll always want more.”

  “Is that what you think? That you weren’t enough? That by Amy deciding to be a midwife, it somehow made you less of a man?”

  It wounded his pride to say it, but they’d made love and now he was telling her they couldn’t be together. She deserved the truth.

  “Yes,” he admitted with a hitch in his voice.

  “Did it never occur to you that Amy’s being a midwife didn’t make you less? It made her more.”

  Wade shook his head. “What?”

  “I’m sure she didn’t love you or Annabelle less. But maybe there was a part of her that needed something else.”

  “And you don’t think that makes me feel as though I wasn’t enough for her?”