The Rancher's Unexpected Family

by Myrna Mackenzie

  “Am I disappointed?” the man asked. “Nope. Just making sure I know as much as possible. I’ve spoken with Dr. Cooper, of course. Ms. Ellis put me in touch with him, and he’s given me a good idea of what his practice entails, but anyone who signs on to take the job—if it’s offered—will have to live here.”

  “It’s a good place,” Holt said.

  “Ms. Ellis said that, too. I’d really like to get to know her better.”

  “She’s not part of the package.”

  “I—”

  Dammit, why had he put it that way? “By that I merely meant that she’s planning to move away very soon.”

  The man didn’t answer, and Holt glanced toward him. To his surprise, the guy, Lee Sullivan, was smiling. “You have a thing for her, don’t you?”

  No. No. No. Yes, of course. Who wouldn’t? “It’s not like that.”

  “Which probably means, ‘Mind your own business.’ I don’t blame you. I’m half in love with her myself and I’ve barely met her.”

  Half in love with her. Half in love with her. The words skimmed through Holt’s mind the rest of the day. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t already thought the same thing and pushed it aside. It was just that this day, that guy, her job situation, all served to keep Kathryn’s impending departure on his mind constantly. He dreaded having to say goodbye, and he hated that he even cared. But that couldn’t matter. He had spent a lifetime submerging his emotions. He wasn’t going to let them start leading him around now. Especially not when it would upset Kathryn to know that his interest in her was more than merely physical. And way more than merely friendship.

  With the greatest of effort, he tamped all of that down. And waited for the night when he hoped he could dance with her. Getting close to her might be difficult in this crowd of admiring males.

  * * *

  Kathryn had cleaned up and changed into a white blouse and a blue skirt with a bandanna at her throat. She still had several hours of being on camera, of having to woo people, and all she wanted was some time to spend with Holt.

  That was wrong. This was something she had started and it was important. Under ordinary circumstances she would be happy. The day had been going great once she’d accepted the fact that they were down to only two doctor candidates. But when she had turned on her cell phone that had been turned off, she found a message. Ed Austen’s voice said, “Congratulations! The job is yours if you want it. Come out Monday? We’ll put you and your daughter up in temporary housing until you can find your own place. Call me.”

  She hadn’t called. Not yet. And she hadn’t told Holt. This day was for Larkville and for him. This day was to be their first triumph. She wasn’t going to inject her own personal plans into it.

  And the truth was, she didn’t want to think about leaving Holt. Not today. Instead, she found her smile. She entered the room where Ellie Jackson was giving everyone dance lessons. Ellie was a former ballet dancer from New York, and while ballet might be her usual game, she clearly knew her Texas two-step, too.

  Kathryn found a place near the back of the room and within seconds Holt was there. Her chest, which had been fine all day, felt suddenly tight. “You want a progress report?” she asked.

  “Only if you want to give me one. What I want is a dance partner.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not very good at this.”

  “That’s why you have Ellie. And me.” And he swirled her into his arms and into the dance. She stumbled. “Easy,” he said, his hands on her to stabilize her. “It’s a triple step, then another, then two singles. That’s right. We’re just going to keep it simple at first. We’ll dress it up when you’re comfortable.”

  “Holt?”

  “Yes?” His palm was at her waist, the warmth of his touch seeping through to her skin. She felt flushed and achy. Surely anyone could see how he was affecting her.

  “I may never get comfortable,” she said. Not with him holding her. But then he was twirling her, guiding her and she fit with him, moved with him. He moved toward her, he turned her in his arms. And she followed as if she had been dancing with him all her life.

  “Hot. Very hot,” Luann said as she glided past, her duties with the little ones turned over to Mrs. Best. Kathryn couldn’t have agreed more. She felt very hot, and perfect.

  “Okay, a dip, just for fun,” Holt said, and he dipped her back over his arm at the end of the song. His face was over hers, his lips were so close. She was... Oh, my word, she had been reaching out to pull him even closer. Instantly, she scrambled and nearly fell. Holt righted her immediately.

  “May I cut in?” one of the benefactors asked. “I can’t promise you anything like that, but I won’t embarrass you too much, I don’t think.” He was an older man, a very nice man who had lost his wife and who was still sad.

  Immediately Holt and Kathryn separated. She smiled at the man even as she was completely aware of Holt moving away from her. Asking other women to dance. And she accepted dances from other men. That was the way the rest of the evening went.

  And this was how the rest of her life would go. She and Holt had had their time, and now she had a job. They would both move on. Their time together was over.

  * * *

  Could a man be more frustrated than he was right now? On the one hand he should be ecstatic. The young doctor from the trail seemed interested in the town and maybe the job, they had raised a lot of money and everyone had had a good time. But every time he had tried to get close to Kathryn, some other man had stepped in to take his place. And he’d had to let him. Them. All of them.

  After that first dance, he hadn’t gotten close to her again and now she was standing in front of him telling him...

  “I’m going home on the bus with Gus.”

  He blinked. “I can drive you.”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “You want to explain that? Have I been channeling that jackass husband the way I’ve done so often with you? Made you angry? Pushed you?” Wasn’t he pushing her now by asking all these stupid questions that were really none of his business?

  Again, she shook her head. She looked tired. He felt like a beast for prodding her. “No, I just...I have to think, and I don’t trust myself to think straight with you there. You make me want to do risky, unwise things.”

  “And you don’t like that.”

  “I like that too well, but tonight I can’t. I have to return a phone call. From Illinois.”

  Then she was gone, and he didn’t know whether the phone call had been good news or bad. It had been obvious that she wasn’t in a sharing mood. She was withholding crucial information from him. And it was her right. This wasn’t like Lilith. This was Kathryn, and she had every right to tell him nothing at all if she so desired.

  And there wasn’t a thing he could do about it, was there?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  KATHRYN looked around her at her little house and tried to decide what she should do. She had asked Mrs. Best to take Izzy, but she hadn’t told her why she needed time to be alone.

  In truth, there wasn’t a good reason. She had called Ed Austen; she had done the only thing she could do. By rights she should be ecstatic.

  And I will be, she promised herself. This was what she had set out to do. Get a job in her field. Become independent. Make her own little family. It was perfect.

  Except...

  When the knock came at the door, she knew it was Holt. She had been less than forthcoming with him last night. Because she was afraid she might do something stupid. Like cry. Or get clingy. She’d been tired and not completely in control of her emotions. There had been a very good chance that she might have done something emotional, something they’d both regret.

  But it was morning now. She should be fine. Had to be fine.

  She opened the door. And looked up into those dark eyes. She wasn’t fine.

  “I just came by to...see how you thought everything went yesterday.”

  Kathryn nodded. She wanted to sock him on
the arm. He was so obviously making that up. “It went well. Fantastic. Don’t you think?”

  “Me? Yeah. Great. I think we’ll probably bag that young doctor. And we pulled in enough... I’ve got some architects in mind and—hell, Kathryn. I don’t want to talk about the clinic.”

  She waited.

  “The phone call,” he said. “Yes or no?”

  “Yes.” Her voice sounded too weak. “Yes,” she tried again. “I start Monday.”

  He let out a whistle. It sounded very nonchalant. Her heart felt very rocklike. She wanted to kick some of the piles of stuff she had been trying to organize and sort for the trip. “Monday?”

  “I couldn’t say no. It’s a good opportunity.”

  “Yes, it is. I’m happy for you. You can do and be all those things you wanted to.”

  “I know. Isn’t it great?” She tried so very hard to dredge up a brilliant smile and a convincing tone of voice. The last thing she wanted was for Holt to know that when she left here she left...in love with him. This was a man who piled responsibility on himself. She didn’t want him to feel responsible for her. Or to feel guilty when he heard her name. Light. Keep it light, she ordered herself.

  “I’m going to miss all the good stuff, the plans for the clinic, the groundbreaking,” she told him, trying to keep her smile brilliant. “Send me—send me lists.”

  “Right. Sure thing.”

  She had motioned him to the couch. Now she stared down at him. “You’re not going to, are you?” And why should he? He didn’t owe her anything. She shouldn’t even want him to contact her. It would only open the wound over and over.

  “I—Kathryn, no, I’m not going to send you lists or anything else,” he said, shaking his head. “When things end, they’re done. I don’t look back.”

  That felt like a blow, and yet she tried to put herself in his place. He’d faced so much. A weaker man might have gone crazy.

  “I shouldn’t ask, but is that because...I know you’ve lost a lot of loved ones...”

  “No point in remembering.”

  “Even the good memories?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Holt, I want to be a good memory. Someone who makes you smile when you think about her. You say that you’re not a sensitive or emotional man. But I’ve seen how patient you are with Mrs. Best and how mad you were when Ava DuShay’s son wasn’t treating her right. You may have a responsibility to the people of Larkville, but all those things you... I’m just not buying that it’s all out of duty or that you’re some emotionless robot. You care what happens to people. They touch your heart even if you don’t say the words. Why do the words matter? You show them instead. So don’t put me on your ‘do not remember’ list. Remember me just a little. We’ve been friends, haven’t we?”

  He reached up and took her hand, pulling her down beside him on the couch. “Don’t you ever give up?”

  “Yes. Yes I do. Sometimes, but—”

  “Shh.” He drew her onto his lap. He kissed her, a long, sweet kiss. “Don’t you want to know what I’m doing?” he asked.

  “You’re kissing me. I’m kissing you, too.”

  “I’m making some good memories,” he whispered against her mouth.

  She smiled against his lips. Her heart was still filled with pain, but she wove her way around it, over it, under it. The pain would wait. Now she was with Holt. “Let’s make more memories,” she said. “Izzy is at Mrs. Best’s.”

  “We’re alone? No one’s going to cut in and ask you to dance?”

  “Just you. Dancing with me. We’ll begin where we left off last night. Where was it?”

  “I think it was...here,” he said, sliding his palm around her back. “And then here.” He gently touched her lips.

  “And this was where we were headed,” she whispered, and she leaned into him, kissing him more deeply. She placed her palms on his shirt. “Open the buttons for me.”

  He never stopped kissing her, but in seconds she was able to push his shirt wide. He slithered out of it.

  “We could dance better, closer, without these,” he said, removing her blouse and then her jeans. As he turned with her, rolled with her, danced with her, they did away with the rest of their clothes. Then he took her in his arms and danced her into her bedroom. He laid her on the mattress, he braced himself above her. “When you’re gone, I’ll send you whatever you ask for,” he whispered.

  “Send me you. Now,” she said.

  “With pleasure,” he agreed.

  And he was right. Kathryn had never been loved so well. She knew why, too.

  Because Holt knew how to love in many ways even if he didn’t actually love her. And also because she actually did love him. Desperately. Hopelessly. Now wasn’t the time to think about or regret that. She would have a lifetime to get over loving Holt.

  She didn’t hesitate. She had no desire to hold back, because these would be her last memories of him. She wanted them to be perfect.

  So when they finally awoke, she kissed him once more, loving him with all her heart. “Don’t stay,” she said. “I have to get ready. I have to pack and leave.”

  Within moments he was gone. Forever. Only the thought that she had a child to take care of kept her from collapsing.

  * * *

  Holt rode Daedalus for miles. And then for more miles. He paid no attention to time or the weather. He could have ridden forever but a man’s horse shouldn’t have to bear the grief of the man.

  Eventually, he came back and stopped by the creek. This had always been one of his favorite places. Today it was empty, and his heart wasn’t here.

  “She’s almost gone, boy. You won’t see her again and neither will I,” he said. “I wish I had some way to change things so that what she needs and wants could be here. I wish I had the words to make her want to stay, but that’s never been me. Not good with words or matters of the heart. Lots of disappointed people, lots of loss. People think I’m something because of the Double Bar C, but I’m not so much. Kathryn, now, she’s something. She knows how to get things done, how to make people want to do the things she wants. Her and her lists.” Those silly, sweet lists. She drove him mad with them. She made him smile.

  If he hadn’t been in so much pain, he might have smiled now. As it was, smiling wasn’t an option today.

  He hadn’t even said a word when he left last night, the last time he would ever speak to her.

  Don’t feel, he remembered his father saying in a rare moment of introspection. Feeling makes you weak and brings you trouble. Don’t ever say anything that will let anyone see into your soul and give them power over you. Just work. Love comes and goes, but the ranch is a lasting legacy. That’s all that matters in life.

  Don’t you dare cry, Clay had said when he got hurt.

  Pick yourself up and move on, his father had said when his dog died. Don’t feel. Don’t feel. Don’t let yourself be blinded by passion. The words echoed through his mind.

  Holt got up and began trying to outwalk the litany running through his head. Don’t feel. Don’t feel. He’d followed that directive all his life. It had crippled him to the point where his throat froze every time he even thought the word love.

  But I love her. Holt lurched, bumping into Daedalus, who sidestepped and whinnied.

  “Sorry, boy,” Holt said. “Look what I did. Just thinking the words messed me up. How could I ever tell her?”

  Maybe he didn’t have to. The thought came to him in all capitals, in bold. What had Kathryn said? That the words weren’t important because she knew that he cared about people?

  Maybe so, but that seems way too easy. That’s like giving me a pass to be a total jerk.

  Besides, for the first time in his memory, he wanted to love and to say the words. He wanted to let his heart out of its cage and be able to tell the woman he loved that he cared. And not awkwardly, either. Kathryn was a woman who liked words, no matter what she’d said. Otherwise, she wouldn’t work for a newspaper and fill up reams of paper with her lis
ts.

  You’ll mess it up. You’ll say the wrong thing. You might even yell and act stupid. And what’s the point, anyway? She’s going. She’s going.

  And maybe that was the point exactly. She was going without knowing that she was loved beyond belief. She wanted him to have good memories of her? He wanted her to know that she had changed him in a way no one ever had before. He wanted her to know how much she mattered, to give her what all the people she’d loved had withheld from her. Too bad he wasn’t an eloquent man.

  Still, he intended to make the effort.

  * * *

  Kathryn was crossing the park on her way to the SmartMart. She needed some last-minute items to tide Izzy over for the trip and her mind was so...no, it was her heart that was the problem. She kept forgetting things.

  But this was absolutely the last trip to the store. She had her bags in the car, she’d said her goodbyes to everyone in town and there was nothing left to do but go. And try to get over Holt. Because she hurt. She was a mess.

  You shouldn’t have trusted him. The thought slid in. He hurt you the way everyone else has. But no, that wasn’t true. He had warned her from the first that he wasn’t a man a woman should love. He had tried to protect her heart, and everything he did, everything he was, was honorable. He was the most trustworthy man she knew. He had given her back what she had lost: trust, faith in herself and in others. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t love her the way she loved him.

  Stop thinking. Stop feeling. Go, she told herself. So, she got the things she needed from the store, she put them in the car and put Izzy in her car seat. She took one last look around and turned to go, fighting the tears in her throat. She reached for the car door handle. Go. Go now before you break down right here in public.

  “Kathryn, don’t. Don’t go.” Holt’s voice sounded behind her and she whirled, almost into his arms. “Don’t go yet,” he clarified.