Stand-In Rancher Daddy

by Renee Ryan

  Having held out for an entire two and a half minutes, she searched for her first glimpse of CJ. She found him almost immediately, standing at the center of the activity, organizing the assembled men and boys into four groups. He then sent them off to build the side frames of the barn, or so Molly presumed.

  He’d explained the building process to her yesterday afternoon, when he’d come inside the kitchen after completing a walk-through with her father. Molly had thought she’d understood the magnitude of the undertaking, but she hadn’t. Not until she’d witnessed the organized teamwork herself.

  She’d always known CJ was a man of action. From the first time she’d met him she’d admired his ability to focus on a task and see it through to the end.

  When he made a promise, he stuck to it.

  He would make some woman a wonderful husband.

  More than ever she regretted that the woman would not be her.

  Captured by the sight of him, she watched him a moment longer. He was big and skilled, larger than life and so dedicated to making sure the barn would be completed in a day.

  How could she not adore him? How could she not love him?

  Love? Something warm and soft moved through her. Of course she loved CJ. She’d always loved him, in varying degrees. Now, she felt the emotion with a depth of maturity that would last a lifetime.

  He noticed her watching him, and stopped in his tracks, perfectly still for a moment. Then he grinned, quickly and impulsively, and Molly forgot to breathe.

  Out of self-preservation, she looked away.

  Another wagon bounced across the land, this one driven by Cookie. The twins sat on either side of him. The flatbed was full of additional lumber, as well as pots and pans he would deliver to the kitchen.

  The girls squealed out a greeting to Molly.

  She started toward them.

  A lot had changed since Ned had left home. Though her day-to-day existence had remained much the same, Molly’s life had taken a dramatic turn. Even her parents had come around to a new way of thinking. Instead of warning her against getting too close to the Thorn family, they seemed to be pushing her in that direction.

  Especially her mother, who all but shoved Molly out of the house every morning, after extracting her promise to tell that dear, sweet man and his lovely nieces hello for her.

  Cookie set the brake and took his time climbing to the ground. “I’ll haul these inside—” he motioned to the pots and pans on top of the lumber “—and get to cooking right away.”

  “That would be wonderful.” Molly reached for the twins, setting Anna on the ground first.

  Just as she reached for Sarah, another wagon pulled in beside them, manned by Pastor Stillwater. Instead of lumber in the flatbed, he carted the five boys from town who’d helped Molly’s brothers clear away the debris from the fire.

  Barely acknowledging her and the girls, they spilled out of the wagon and made a beeline for CJ.

  Unaffected by the snub, Sarah looked out over the crowd. “This is so exciting,” she declared. “Everyone came to help, just like Unca Corny said they would.”

  Brandon Stillwater stood in the back of his wagon and called for silence. “Please stop what you’re doing and gather around.” He waited for activity to cease. “I’d like to take a moment to lift up a word of prayer before we get too deeply involved in our individual tasks.”

  A hush fell over the crowd as they moved in closer.

  “On behalf of the Carson family, I want to thank all of you for coming today.” This earned him a nod of gratitude from Molly’s parents. “Let us remember the value of helping our neighbors long after this day is over. As my earthly father taught my brother and me, what we do for ourselves dies with us. What we do for others remains forever. Let us pray.”

  All heads bowed.

  “Father God, we humbly ask for Your blessing. Guide our hands as we rebuild the Carson barn. May we work quickly, efficiently and may the result be a sturdy structure that will last for decades. We pray this, Lord, in Your Son’s name. Amen.”

  People separated off in groups.

  Anna tapped Molly on the wrist. “Cookie said we can help him in the kitchen.”

  “Then we better get to work.” Molly took their hands and guided the girls to the house.

  At the door, she couldn’t stop herself from sneaking a peek at CJ. He winked, and Molly couldn’t help it; she sighed.

  How could she not? The man was just so, well, sigh-worthy.

  Oh, how she wanted to stay and watch him work. There was no time, of course. They had a long day ahead.

  * * *

  The barn was taking shape.

  Somewhere around midafternoon, CJ set his hammer down and stepped away from the structure. The corner posts were in place and the cross braces set. The side frames had been raised and the rafters were set in place. Edmund led the team of men securing the roofing felt atop the sheathing.

  Hank Snowden, acting once again as Lucas Bennett’s proxy, directed his crew as they fastened pieces of siding along the exterior walls. The Gillen and Forester brothers worked alongside John Carson’s sons. The boys mostly fetched supplies and water for the crews, small but necessary tasks so that the work could continue without interruption.

  “We’ve made considerable progress.” Satisfaction rang in John Carson’s voice as he came to stand beside CJ. “We’re on target to finish before dark.”

  “It’s been a good day,” CJ said. As if to punctuate the statement, the sound of hammers blended with the shouts and laughter of the men.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you.” Speculation shifted into the other rancher’s eyes. “How goes the campaign to win my daughter’s heart?”

  Caught off guard by the swift change of topic, CJ stared at him for a full three heartbeats.

  “Not well,” he said at last, hearing the weary resignation in his own voice. “She’s proving stubborn.”

  “Don’t despair, my boy.” John clasped his shoulder briefly. “She’ll come around.”

  CJ wasn’t nearly as confident as Molly’s father. “I can’t help thinking she’s intentionally avoiding me,” he admitted, needing to say the words out loud.

  “Let me offer you a piece of advice I wish someone would have given me when I was courting her mother.” The other man readjusted his stance, his gaze momentarily lost in some distant memory. “Strong women like Molly and my Helen need careful handling. You can’t force them to your will, you have to guide them there—no different than taming a wild maverick.”

  “With all due respect, Molly is not a horse.”

  John chuckled. “I was speaking metaphorically. The theory still applies. My point is that a good horse trainer knows the power of walking away. If done at just the right moment, nine times out of ten the animal follows.”

  “You’re telling me to give up on your daughter?”

  “I’m telling you to be patient, treat her with respect and gentleness. Give her the chance to come to you.”

  As CJ considered the advice, a horse and rider appeared on the ridge. Squinting against the glare of the afternoon sun, he immediately recognized his foreman. Duke had stayed behind to keep an eye on the Triple-T while CJ and the other ranch hands attended the barn raising.

  A terrible sense of foreboding had him stalking in Duke’s direction. John Carson matched CJ step for step.

  Duke skillfully maneuvered his horse around the various work crews. From the man’s clenched jaw and the rigid set of his shoulders, it was clear something was wrong.

  “What’s happened?” CJ asked, looking up at him.

  Duke’s expression turned grave. “I spent the day riding the fence line. I found nothing out of the ordinary, until I went to check on the herd in the north pasture. An entire section of the fence is missing a
nd the herd is somewhat smaller.”

  A burning throb knotted in CJ’s throat. “How much smaller?”

  “By my estimation, we’re missing at least twenty head, maybe more.”

  CJ experienced an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. His first instinct was to charge out and investigate the ruined fence for himself. On the other hand, he was needed here. They were close to completing the barn. He hated leaving when they were so close to finishing the exterior.

  John Carson solved the quandary for him. “Go on, CJ, see to your ranch.” When he remained where he was, the older man added, “You’ve done more than your share of work today. We’ll manage a few hours without you.”

  Still hesitant, CJ cast a glance in the direction of the barn. Under the expert guidance of the crew chiefs, the structure was already looking sound.

  Satisfied that he wasn’t leaving John Carson in the lurch, CJ made his decision. “I’ll be back before dark.”

  “Whatever it takes.” The man’s lips curved. “We aren’t going anywhere.”

  Tamping down the desire to let anger rule his actions, CJ retrieved his horse from one of the corrals. After securing the saddle strap and readjusting the rest of the tack, he mounted up and rode off, followed by Duke. Once they crossed on to Thorn land, CJ pushed his horse faster, and Duke matched his pace. They rode hard toward the northern property line.

  After weaving among clumps of grazing cows, they finally came to a halt at the damaged fence.

  CJ’s temper flared when he saw the gaping hole and downed posts, all four of them. He studied the impressions left on the ground, a collection of horse and cow hoofprints. The pockmarks ran in a straight line across the spongy earth, starting in the pasture and leading over the first ridge five hundred feet beyond the fence line.

  The thief was getting sloppier, not even bothering to cover his tracks.

  Swiveling his attention back to the fence, CJ studied the damage with hard, narrowed eyes. It would take his entire crew to fix it properly. Even then, the job would take considerable effort.

  “Let’s get this fence repaired as best we can.” He dismounted, slung his horse’s reins over a portion of the fence not damaged. “We’ll come back tomorrow and do the job properly.”

  A man of few words, Duke gave a nod and dismounted.

  Two hours later, comfortable that the fence would hold the cows in until morning, CJ returned to the Carson ranch. His frustration disappeared at the sight of the progress made in his absence.

  The exterior was nearly complete, with only the roofing left to finish. Most of the hammering now came from inside the barn, where crews labored over the animal stalls, grain bins, tack room and cleaning stations. The windows and doors would be installed last. At this rate, they would indeed be finished before nightfall.

  Stopping at the corral, CJ dismounted, took care of his horse and then went in search of John Carson. He found him speaking with Lucas Bennett, the lone rancher who’d refused to attend their meeting.

  Not exactly refused, CJ mentally amended, attempting to be fair. Lucas had agreed to be a founding member of the association, but had sent Hank to act as his proxy.

  If pressed, CJ would admit that he didn’t especially like Lucas. He never had. There was something about the rancher that set him on edge. His aversion for the man made little sense, however, especially when others considered him an upstanding member of their community.

  “CJ.” John greeted him with a handshake. “Your arrival gives me hope the damage to your fence wasn’t as bad as your foreman led us to believe.”

  “We managed to repair the wire. But the entire section will to have to be replaced.”

  Lucas’s eyebrows shot up. “You had trouble at your place?”

  CJ explained about the stolen cattle.

  “That’s a real shame.” The rancher’s commiseration seemed sincere. “The loss of my cows was a real blow.”

  Only then did CJ recall that Lucas had been a victim of the cattle rustler, as well. Which begged the question, why was he so resistant to joining their association?

  Before CJ could ask the question a movement at the back door of the main house had him looking over his shoulder. Molly stood in the sunlight, a large tray of food in her hands.

  She set it on one of the many picnic tables scattered about, then glanced in CJ’s direction.

  Their gazes connected and something in him shifted, softened, then resettled in a way that reminded him of the important things in life. Family. Friends. Community.

  Molly.

  He needed a moment in her presence, a chance to wash away the taint of the last few hours. CJ started toward her.

  John’s voice followed after him. “Remember what I said, son. Patience.”

  CJ waved a hand over his head in acknowledgment of the advice.

  Patience, he repeated in his head, knowing Molly’s father was right. Unfortunately, the closer CJ drew to Molly, the more impatient he became. He wanted to start their future together.

  With her face full of concern, Molly met him at the edge of the eating area. “I heard about the trouble on your ranch.”

  The look in her eyes warmed him to the depths of his soul. “You worried about me, Molly?”

  “Always.”

  The lack of hesitancy rendered him hopeful. CJ knew with a man’s instinct that Molly cared for him—with the kind of caring he’d given up hope of ever winning from a woman like her. Molly had shattered his previous misconceptions with her open, giving nature.

  Surely, with the proper amount of patience and persistence, CJ could shove past her barriers, help her face her fears and ultimately win her heart.

  “I heard you lost twenty cows.”

  News traveled fast. “That’s about right, give or take a few head.”

  Expelling a breath, Molly looked in the direction of his ranch. “How bad was the damage to the fence?”

  She wanted to talk about the trouble on his spread? He supposed it was as good a topic as any, especially if it meant spending a few minutes in her company.

  “Duke and I managed to temporarily fix the wiring. Tomorrow, we’ll make more permanent repairs.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes cut back to him. They were huge and sparkling in the afternoon sun. “Have you thought about enlisting the Young Ranchers’ help?”

  “That’s not a bad idea.”

  “I’m happy you agree. I’ve come to like those boys. They’re good kids.” She paused and her features tightened.

  An unexpected reaction. “Is there something about the boys I should know?”

  “No. Well, actually, yes. They need masculine role models, but they also need...” Her words trailed off.

  “What, Molly? What do they need?”

  She opened her mouth, closed it, sighed heavily, then opened it again. “Food. I don’t think they’re fed on a regular basis.”

  CJ’s heart filled with dread. “They tell you that?”

  “It’s just an impression. They gobble down their food like half-wild animals, which isn’t necessarily all that odd. Growing boys always eat like that.” She laughed softly, then shook her head and turned serious. “But those boys are overly enthusiastic in their gratitude for the food. That’s what gives them away.”

  How had CJ missed that? Because he didn’t think like a mother.

  “Let me ask Brandon Stillwater to bring the boys to the ranch tomorrow. I’ll put them to work, and you, Molly—” he took her hand, placed it briefly against his heart “—will feed them.”

  A slow smile curved her lips. “Now that’s a plan I can easily get behind.”

  With the image of her beautiful smile playing in his mind, CJ went back to work on the barn.

  Tomorrow, he decided, was going to be a very good day.


  Chapter Nineteen

  Everyone involved in the building project declared the barn raising a success. There were a few things that needed to be done yet—painting the exterior, a bit of specialty work on the inside. Nothing her father, brothers and the ranch hands couldn’t complete in the coming weeks.

  Molly knew the successful completion of the massive structure was due, in large part, to CJ. Her parents had thanked him profusely. CJ, being CJ, had deflected the praise back to every man, woman and child who’d shown up to do their part.

  Was it any wonder Molly loved him?

  Was there any way her time in his home would end without heartache?

  As CJ promised, he’d spoken with Brandon Stillwater. The preacher had agreed to cart the Gillen and Forester brothers out to CJ’s ranch the next morning.

  Now, with the sun riding low in the afternoon sky, Molly and the twins stood on the porch, watching the men and boys returning from a long day on the range.

  She lifted her hand in greeting.

  The girls mimicked the move. “I can’t wait to tell Unca Corny that Anna and me made the johnnycakes,” Sarah declared.

  This is the life I want.

  A spark of surety ignited deep within Molly, one she didn’t dare fan into a flame. The man she loved wanted more than marriage. He wanted a large family.

  Molly thought her heart might break for the family they would never have together. CJ needed someone to share his life with him, not just a friend, but a helpmate, someone who cared about him, who loved him. She could be that person, if only he didn’t want children.

  “...and it was really fun, digging our hands in the cornmeal. It felt gritty, but it wasn’t too terrible.”

  Realizing Sarah had continued the conversation without her, Molly attempted to file through the information the child had imparted. “Sounds as if you like cooking.”

  “I love it.”

  “Me, too,” Anna said.

  Girls after her own heart.

  Molly gathered them close. Instead of feeling comforted by their nearness, she felt bone-deep sorrow, because this moment felt like goodbye.