“Gotta run, Mom.”
“Wait.” She paused from clearing the table. “Do you have a few minutes to talk?”
“If it’s about Midnight, he’s doing great. Still enamored with that mare of Flynn’s. He’ll pay attention to the other ones, only as long as he needs to, then he’s right back to mooning after Fancy Gal.”
“I’m glad the breeding’s going well, but it’s actually Flynn I wanted to discuss.”
Ace sat back down in his chair, finished the last bite of his burrito. When his mother affected that tone, he wasn’t going anywhere.
“What about Flynn?”
“Have you two made any definite plans yet?”
“No.”
“But you’re seeing each other.”
“Twice in the last week.”
Their second outing, to the frozen yogurt shop and public library, hadn’t ended the same as their dinner date. Namely, no kiss. Just a hug. Ace would have preferred more. Flynn’s keep-away signals had discouraged him from trying.
A shame. Their kiss outside the diner was all he could think about, next to the night they’d spent in her bed.
How could they have dated all those years ago and not kissed or made love with the intensity they did now? What change was responsible?
If he concentrated, he could feel the sensation of her silky skin beneath his fingertips, smell the scent of her floral body wash, taste her lush mouth.
“What did you say?” he asked, realizing he hadn’t heard his mother.
“Is Flynn still set on moving to Billings?”
“Yes.”
“I wish she wasn’t.”
“Me, too. I’m working on changing her mind.”
“What if I talked to her?”
“I don’t know about that. She might think you’re interfering. Dig in her heels.”
“I suppose.” His mother sighed, stared at the window. “I hate the idea of my first grandchild being so far away.”
“Tell me about it.”
She pressed a hand to her chest and sniffed. “I’m sure it’s much worse for you. That was a thoughtless thing to say.”
“What’s wrong, Mom? You seem sad today.”
“It’s your brother Tuf.”
“Have you heard from him again?”
“No, and that’s the problem. One brief phone call to tell me he’s been discharged, that he’s okay, he’ll be in touch soon and not to worry. Nothing about where he is or what he’s doing.” Her voice hitched. “How am I not supposed to worry?”
“I know.” Ace had been so consumed with his own problems, he hadn’t noticed the strain in his mother’s face and the sorrow in her eyes. “Tuf’s a marine. Former marine, anyway. He’s capable of taking care of himself.”
“You’re right. But he’s still my little boy. My baby. Why won’t he come home?”
Ace was also concerned. It wasn’t like Tuf to alienate himself. He’d always kept in regular contact with them up until shortly before his release. Ace was also angry at Tuf—for putting their mother through unnecessary upset and for shirking his responsibilities. Ace had been understanding as long as Tuf was in the Marines, but he was a civilian now. It was long past time for him to come home and take his place in the family business.
One responsibility-challenged brother was bad enough. Ace didn’t need two.
“Have you tried calling someone in the Marines?” he asked.
“Even if I could figure out where to start, I’m not sure they’d tell me anything. They’re probably not allowed.”
“Maybe we should hire someone to track him down.”
“Like a private detective?” His mother shook her head. “That’s expensive. And Tuf wouldn’t like it.”
“I don’t like what he’s doing to us.” Ace stood, then bent and kissed his mother on the cheek.
“I’m sorry to pester you and add to your load,” she said.
“Don’t give it a second thought.”
That was what family did, be there for each other. Dinah, Uncle Joshua and his cousins understood. Colt and Tuf just assumed Ace would pick up the slack.
He headed out the kitchen door, started his Polaris and drove to the main barn. Once there, he immersed himself in the job of loading the livestock. It proved useful in fending off his thoughts. Between Flynn, her moving, the baby, the canceled contracts, his mother and his brothers, he had a lot of fending off to do.
Colt wasn’t anywhere to be found. So much for his mother’s assurance that he’d help them. Gracie and Royce were there along with Uncle Joshua. Oddly enough, Harlan was AWOL, too. The young ranch hand was as dependable as they came.
“Anyone hear from Harlan this morning?” Ace asked.
“No, and that’s strange,” Gracie answered from inside one of the trailers. She was hosing it out before the horses were loaded.
Ace dialed Harlan’s number on his cell phone. He was in no mood for slackers and ready to tear Harlan a new one for being late.
“Hello,” a breathy female voice answered, taking Ace momentarily aback.
Then he remembered who he was dealing with and what a ladies’ man Harlan was. “Is Harlan there? I need to speak to him.”
“He can’t come to the phone.”
“This is his boss, Aidan Hart. What’s wrong?” Ace didn’t care that Harlan was typically a good employee. If he was nursing a hangover and lolling around in bed with a woman, Ace was firing him.
“He’s asleep.”
“Asleep!” At eight in the morning? “Wake him up now. Please,” Ace added through gritted teeth.
“I would, but the doctor said not to.”
“The doctor?”
“At the emergency room last night. The poor baby has some kind of food poisoning. I don’t know what he ate. We were at the Open Range Saloon. He took me dancing.” She giggled. “We got these nachos off the happy-hour menu—”
“Is Harlan okay?” Ace didn’t care about the dancing and what caused the food poisoning.
“The doctor said he’ll be fine. Just needs to rest. The medicine makes him groggy. Guess I should have tried to call you. I had an awful time getting him from the truck into bed. That’s not how it usually is.” She giggled again.
“Thanks for letting me know. I’ll send someone by later to check on him.” Ace disconnected, feeling guilty for condemning Harlan before learning the facts. “Where’s Colt?” he asked out loud.
The same answer came back as the first time Ace asked the question. No one had any idea.
He dialed his brother’s cell phone, relief surging through him when Colt promptly answered.
“Where are you?”
“About halfway to Torrington.”
“What! Why aren’t you here? We’re loading the stock.”
“I told you I was going early.”
“No, you didn’t,” Ace snapped.
“I could’ve sworn.”
“Dammit to hell, Colt.”
“I’ll me—you th—help wi—”
Whatever his brother said was garbled as their reception went from poor to nonexistent.
Ace shoved his phone in his pocket, barely restraining himself from pitching it into the side of the trailer. His energy was better spent readying the horses for transport.
“Something wrong?” Uncle Joshua asked.
“Colt took off early for Torrington. Didn’t tell anybody.”
“We’ll be okay.”
“No, we won’t. Harlan’s sick. Food poisoning. He’s on medication.”
“That’ll leave us one driver short.”
“No, it won’t. I’ll go.” He’d stop at Angie’s rescue shelter on the way to treat the pony’s laminitis.
There wer
e days he’d give his right arm for a veterinarian assistant.
“What about Midnight and the mares?” Uncle Joshua asked.
“Gracie will have to be in charge.” She couldn’t fill in for Colt, not with two sons at home to watch.
Ace groaned. Taking three days off to attend the rodeo was going to wreak havoc with his schedule—his date with Flynn in particular. But what choice did he have? Hopefully she’d understand.
Just when they were making progress…
Ace cursed his brothers under his breath. How pitiful was it when he could rely more on an employee than family members?
When he next saw Colt and Tuf, he was going to give the both of them a much-needed lesson in priorities.
Chapter Nine
Flynn reread the printed email from the University of Montana, then set it down beside her, a sound of discontent escaping her lips.
Her father discovered her several minutes later, still sitting on the front porch swing and rocking idly.
“You’re mighty glum,” he observed.
“Transferring to the university isn’t going to be as easy as I thought. And apparently I should have applied to nursing school last spring. There aren’t any current openings.”
“Can you still take classes even if you aren’t in nursing school?” He sat on the sturdier of the two wicker chairs, easing himself into it with a weary groan.
“Sure. Once I complete the transfer process. Seems there’s a problem with that, too. My transcripts are incomplete. I have to contact Billings Community College.”
“You’ll get it done.”
“Yeah, but I’m frustrated. I really wanted to start with an online class or two this summer.”
“Well, we may be stuck here a while longer.”
“Why? What’s happening?”
“Nothing’s happening. That’s the problem. Haven’t had but one serious buyer look at the place, and it’s been on the market a while now.” He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he did.
“Hurt yourself?”
“Naw, just sore. Think I might have overdone it.”
He’d spent the majority of the day performing minor repairs from the list the real estate agent had given him. According to her, a little fixing up, a little cleaning up, a little sprucing up would improve her father’s chances of selling.
“Not many people in the market for a ranch, I guess.” Flynn recalled her conversation with Ace on the topic.
“I came down on my price.”
And he’d probably have to come down a lot more. “Give it time, Dad.”
He smiled. “I could tell you the same thing about school.”
“You’re right.” She smiled back at him. “Are you that anxious to move?”
“Some days, yes. Some days, no. Lived here my whole life. Your grandfather built this entire place board by board.”
Flynn felt the same. She’d wake up in the morning, excited about school and her return to Billings. By afternoon, she dreaded leaving Roundup.
And, if she were honest with herself, leaving Ace, too.
It was different before. When she’d headed off to college eleven years ago, she’d been moving toward something. A bright new future. Endless possibilities. Now, despite the excitement of continuing her education and expecting a baby, it seemed as if she was running away, and she couldn’t explain why.
“Aren’t you and Ace going out tonight?”
Two dates and already her father assumed she and Ace were an item.
“Not anymore. He left yesterday for the rodeo in Torrington. One of their hands contracted food poisoning. Ace stepped in.”
“Don’t take it so hard.”
“I’m not.”
“Really? Because you remind me of that Christmas you were seven and Nora told you there was no Santa Claus.”
It was true. She’d been surprised at the depth of her disappointment when Ace had called to cancel. Her annoyance, now that was no surprise. Fair or not, thanks to her ex-husband, Flynn had a low tolerance for men married to their jobs.
“Cut him some slack,” her father said. “He didn’t stand you up for no good reason. They had a contract to fulfill.”
“I’m not mad at him, Dad.”
“You think he should have sent someone else in his place.”
Kind of, yes. The Harts employed a lot of hands. “I have no idea.” She pushed the email aside.
“Ace wants to be with you. He wouldn’t have gone to Torrington if he had any other choice.”
“That’s just it. I want a man who has other choices. Who doesn’t live, eat, breathe work.”
“It’s a date, Flynn. You’ll go out with him again this week.”
“What if it was more than a date? What if I went into labor or the baby was sick? Would he still run off to some rodeo because an employee called in sick?”
“You can depend on him when it really matters.”
Flynn conceded she was probably making a bigger deal out of the canceled date than she should. Blame raging hormones. The tone in Ace’s voice had been reminiscent of Paul’s, and it struck an old, inharmonious chord in her.
“Maybe you should stay in Roundup. Get an apartment.”
“Why wouldn’t I move when you do?”
“Ace, for one. And the baby.”
“I’m going to college, Dad. There are other nursing schools in Billings.” Not affiliated with the university but as good.
“Are you certain being a nurse is what you want?”
“Absolutely.” Or was she simply talking herself into it?
He inclined his head at the letter. “Wouldn’t hurt anything if you waited until after the baby was born. Give yourself time to enroll in nursing school and straighten out that transcript problem.”
“Those are small glitches.”
“But you love Ace.”
She did. Their dates, under the guise of doing what was best for the baby, were wonderful. Fun and heady. They were also difficult. She’d come home feeling like she was standing on the edge of a precipice, swaying in the ever-changing wind.
He liked her. Desired her. Respected and possibly adored her. He didn’t, however, love her in return. And it hurt.
“How I feel about Ace is irrelevant. What matters is how he feels about me.”
“He asked you to marry him.”
“He did it for the baby.”
“That’s the excuse he gave you. Ace isn’t a man of fancy-schmancy words or romantic gestures. He’ll show you he loves rather than tell you.”
She thought of last week when he’d kissed her hand before she got out of his truck.
“If he loved me, he’d have sent someone else to the Torrington Rodeo.”
“Ace isn’t Paul. He’s not using work as an excuse to avoid you.”
Flynn’s eyes stung. The wounds she’d believed healed clearly weren’t.
At that moment, her phone beeped. “It’s a text from Ace.” She pressed the button and displayed the message.
How are you? Been thinking of you a lot.
Not fancy-schmancy words by any stretch of the imagination, but they melted her heart.
“From the look on your face, it must be a dandy message.”
“He’s just asking how I am.”
And thinking about her.
Could it be? Were his feelings for her stronger than she’d realized?
Been thinking of you, too, she texted back.
* * *
OKAY, FLYNN ADMITTED IT, Ace was trying. He’d apologized for postponing their date, brought flowers when he picked her up—tulips, a dozen—and was taking her to a chick flick.
Of the thirty or forty people in line to purchase tickets,
she estimated he was one of maybe six guys. The only cowboy. And he didn’t seem to mind, either her choice of movie or standing out from the crowd.
She didn’t mind him standing out, either, or the envious glances being cast her way.
“The movie’s had some good reviews,” he commented as they stepped ahead.
“You read them?”
“I checked online.”
“Preparing yourself for the worst?”
“Not at all.” He grinned, a mildly heart-fluttering grin. “I’m glad to be here with you. I don’t care what movie we see.”
Neither did she.
If he were a little less the perfect date, she’d be better able to resist him.
All the other couples in line were openly affectionate, either holding hands, arms wrapped snugly around each other or standing with their heads bent in whispered conversations. Ace and Flynn didn’t touch, they hadn’t since he’d kissed her hand.
“Maybe next time we can see an action movie.” He dug out his wallet in preparation for purchasing tickets.
“You know, we don’t always have to go on dates. We can just hang out. Talk. Go hiking. Horseback riding.”
“You’re not getting on a horse while you’re pregnant.”
She laughed, having made the last remark only to get a rise out of him. “Fishing, then.”
“I like going on dates with you.”
She liked it, too. More than she should.
They were two customers away from the ticket window when Ace’s cell phone rang.
Flynn’s heart plummeted.
“I’ll send this to my voice mail—” He read the caller ID, said, “Sorry,” and answered with a brusque, “Ace Hart.” After listening for several seconds, he asked, “How bad is she? Can she walk?” Another pause. “That’s normal. She’s probably in shock. How cold is it in the garage?…Okay, if you can reach her, cover her with a blanket or coat but don’t disturb her.”
“Is everything all right?” Flynn mouthed. They were almost to the window.
He gave her an apologetic head shake. “I’ll be there as quick as I can. No, it’s all right. Don’t worry.” He disconnected. “Flynn, there’s been an emergency.”
Aidan: Loyal Cowboy: Aidan: Loyal CowboyThe Family Plan Page 11