Her Secret Ranger (The Men of at Ease Ranch)

by Donna Michaels

  Beth had no idea if Brick had planned to invite her to stay the night, but her brother’s imminent arrival voided the possibility. After waiting a half hour, she pretended to receive a text about work and then asked Brick to take her back to Braxton because of her supposed early appointment in the morning.

  And because of that supposed appointment, he only stayed at her hotel for two hours before he covered up his glorious body with clothes, climbed into his truck, and headed back to Joyful.

  So after tossing and turning the remainder of the night, Beth called Rachel at first light and made plans to meet for lunch. She needed to talk. She needed advice. She needed someone to tell her everything was going to work out even though the chances of that were fat and less than zero. Negative two hundred was more accurate.

  Brick was no longer her secret cowboy. Now he was her secret Ranger. And she thought her budding relationship with him was complicated before her visit to his ranch. Life just took a crazy turn.

  She hated lying and manipulating and wasn’t wild about not being truthful to Vince and Stone and Jovy, either. Everyone had been so nice. There’d been no judgment or censure anywhere at the ranch. Each person she met had made her feel welcomed, wanted, and added to the acceptance vibe At-Ease gave off.

  She understood why Cord had moved there.

  With two hours to kill before her friend’s shift ended, Beth forced her worries aside and concentrated on work. She opened her laptop and did a search, then called around to find a vendor or ranch—or castle—that would rent out a horse and carriage for the Holcomb event. The clients, in their infinite quest to throw the elaborate birthday party of the year, continually added to their list of demands…uh, needs. Clients had needs. Their latest was a horse-drawn carriage. It took some doing, but Beth found one, then called her clients with the good news.

  “That’s wonderful,” Mrs. Holcomb exclaimed, excitement rising in her tone. “I don’t suppose they had a castle we could rent, too? Oh my word, I’m a genius!” A large squeal ripped through the phone, forcing Beth to hold it a safe distance from her ear before returning when the screeching subsided. “Why didn’t I think of this sooner? Yes, let’s go with a castle and prince theme.”

  Mr. Holcomb got in on the conversation then, exclaiming money was no object and they’d be happy to push the party back a week in order to give Beth time to re-plan and coordinate the Magic Castle Sweet Sixteen party.

  They could give her a whole month and she still wouldn’t find a castle in Braxton, Texas. But of course, Beth would never admit that. Always tell the client yes then make it happen was Georgina’s motto. So, she agreed to cancel the current contract and write up a new one.

  By the time she got off the phone with the Holcombs, then the restaurant to cancel the original party, and negotiated the cancelation fee down to acceptable Georgina standard, Beth wished she had a glass of wine handy. Heck, between her love life and work, she needed a whole bottle. Maybe even a box.

  She settled for two headache pills and a glass of water, and was grateful when the time finally arrived to head to her friend’s for lunch.

  Rachel had wine.

  Of which Beth asked for as soon as her friend answered her knock.

  “Oh boy.” Still in her scrubs, the astute caregiver took care to give Beth what she needed. A nice glass of chardonnay.

  A big one.

  “Here, honey. You nurse this while I go take a quick shower. I’ll be back in a flash and you can tell me what’s wrong.”

  She lifted the goblet and nodded. “Will do.”

  And she did. She drank it all like a good girl and was just pouring her second glass when Rachel walked back into the kitchen and raised a brow.

  “Easy there, Beth. Have you had anything for lunch yet?”

  “No, unless you count the wine, then yes and now I have seconds.”

  With a quick fluidity she hadn’t expected, Rachel swiped the glass from her hand and set it at the other end of the island.

  Party pooper.

  “Let’s hold off on that for now,” Rachel said. “Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you while I make us a salad?”

  “Sure. Great. Yeah. I’d be happy to tell you that fate hates me. She freakin’ hates me, Raych. And she doesn’t like me much, either.”

  Her friend quirked a brow while she placed vegetables on the counter and began to make their lunch. “Why do you say that? Does this have to do with your date yesterday?”

  “Yep.” She reached for a cucumber, intending to help, but got a slap on the back of the hand.

  “I’ll take care of lunch. You just relax.” Rachel moved the veggies out of reach, then continued to slice tomatoes. “Weren’t you supposed to go to Brick’s ranch?”

  “Yep.”

  Her friend sighed. “You’re going to have to give me a little more than that. How am I supposed to help you when I don’t know what’s wrong, other than fate hates you.”

  “She does.” Beth didn’t see why that was so hard to believe. She put a hand to her ear. “And if you listen real careful you can hear her laughing, too.”

  Rachel snickered. “Okay. Why is she laughing?”

  She snorted, reaching for her glass. “You want the short list? How about because Brick is part owner of a ranch that helps veterans, and owns a construction company that employs them.”

  That list sounded great on the surface, but underneath it sucked dust balls.

  “That isn’t funny.” Rachel stopped chopping celery to wave her knife around. “That’s amazing.”

  “Yep.”

  “Oh no. Not that again. We were making progress.” Her friend frowned. “Okay, so he owns a ranch and company that helps vets. Why is that a problem?”

  “It’s in Joyful.”

  Surely her friend would see the issue now and surround her with sympathy and epiphanies…more wine…and the world will be great again.

  “Yeah. So? Joyful’s a great little town. Isn’t that where you said your brother lived now? On a ranch he fixed up with his buddies?”

  “Yep.” Come on, Rachel, do the math. She got a death glare instead, so she added, “And a construction company.”

  “Yes, which is grea…wait…what?” Her friend stilled, peeler stuck in the poor cucumber midair. “Tell me there are two ranches and construction companies in Joyful.”

  Bingo! We have a winner!

  “Would if I could, but I can’t, so I won’t. Salute.” Beth lifted her glass again and downed a big gulp.

  Rachel still stood with the impaled cucumber in hand. “So Cord and Brick know each other?”

  If it were only that tragic.

  “Worse. They’re buddies. Former Ranger pals. Brotherhood compadres. Sisters-are-off-limits chums.”

  “Oh boy.” Rachel set the cucumber aside, poured wine in a glass, and enjoyed a healthy sip herself. “Fate does hate you.”

  Beth waved her glass. “Thought we already established that. She’s a bitch.”

  “So, okay…oh my God.” Her friend leaned closer. “What happened? What did they say when they found out? Did Cord punch him?”

  “Nothing, because they don’t know. Cord wasn’t around yesterday and didn’t show up until after I left. He refers to me as Lizzie, not Beth…and I sort of didn’t exactly tell them my last name.”

  “What name did you use?”

  “Madison.”

  “Your middle name?”

  “That’s not exactly lying, right? I mean, it is my name, right?”

  Rachel nodded but didn’t look convinced.

  “It’s all just so surreal. I mean, I didn’t realize who Brick was until we were halfway to At-Ease. All this time I’ve been seeing him, I had no clue.” She set her glass on the island and shook her head. “Dammit, Rachel. What am I going to do?”

  Sympathy warmed her friend’s eyes as she reached out to place a hand on hers. “You really like Brick, huh?”

  “Yes. I do. A lot.” Between the mind-blowing or
gasms and his incredible sweetness, she’d never felt this way before.

  “Mind-blowing is great.” Rachel lifted her glass high in the air before taking a sip, and it took Beth a second to realize she’d spoken that last part out loud.

  “Yes, but as soon as either of them find out, Brick’s going to walk away and take his mind-blowing orgasms with him.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “He can’t leave them behind.” She blinked at her friend. “Can he?” Then she shook her head as some brain matter materialized out of wine stupor. “Yes, I know he’ll walk away. They’re former Ranger buddies. It’s a super-secret code thing. Like duty. They won’t let a woman get between them. They probably have a secret ring, or maybe it’s in his tattoo. I haven’t looked at it closely.”

  “Damn…Brick has a tattoo?”

  “Yeah, on his upper arm, right above his big bicep I like to hold onto when he…” She halted and blinked, fairly certain she’d said that last part out loud again. “I’ve been too afraid to look at it because it would confirm he was in the military. Oh, hey, too late.” She snorted again.

  What was in the wine? Was it made from a pig?

  “But isn’t that just mainly for combat situations?”

  “Tattoos?”

  Rachel shook her head, adding the chopped veggies to their plates of romaine. “No. Their brotherhood code thing.”

  Oh. That. “For some. For others…” She lifted a shoulder, wishing she could figure out what made them tick. “I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.”

  “Well, I guess the next thing to do is ask yourself what you want.”

  “Oh, that’s easy.” She straightened her back. “I want everything to be fine. I want to tell Brick I’m Cord’s sister. I want him to say it’s okay, he’s not going anywhere. I want Cord to give us his blessing to date each other. And then I want the power ball numbers, because I have a better chance of hitting the damn lottery than any of those other things happening.”

  “I’m sorry, Beth.”

  She slumped back in her chair and sighed. “Me, too.”

  “What are you really going to do?”

  After a quiet minute of thought, she knew there really was no way around it. “I’m going to tell Brick…after your wedding.” She straightened in her chair, warming to the idea. “That’s only a week-ish from now.”

  “Yeah, but aren’t you afraid you’ll run into Cord while you’re with Brick?”

  “Terrified, but if I can get a few extra days with him, so be it.” At this point, she’d take even an extra minute. “I’ll be heading back to Austin a week from this Sunday or Monday, depends how the Magic Castle Sweet Sixteen party goes.”

  “The what?”

  “Don’t ask.” She shook her head and reached for the salad Rachel pushed toward her. She had ten days to plan and execute two events and impress her boss. And ten days to enjoy her secret cowboy Ranger.

  She was just adding more salad to her bowl when the doorbell rang. Working on automatic, she made to go answer it when Rachel motioned for her to stay put.

  “Eat. Relax.”

  “Yes, sir, ma’am, sir.” Beth was still smiling when her friend opened her door.

  “Cord?” Rachel’s tone matched the shock running through Beth’s system.

  She whipped around to face the front door and blinked as her friend stepped back to let her brother in. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you.”

  She dug her phone out of her purse and noted several missed calls and texts. “Why? What’s wrong?” She slid off her stool and stepped toward him. “Is it Grandma?”

  “No. She’s fine. It’s nothing like that.” He shook his head and frowned as he neared, his gaze bouncing between her and her very large goblet. Her very large nearly empty goblet. “It’s barely noon, why are you drinking and getting shitfaced?”

  She wasn’t shitfaced, and she opened her mouth to remind him she didn’t need her big brother checking on her, but Rachel stepped in front of him.

  “It’s my fault,” her friend said. “I asked her to meet me here after my shift for some lunch and to help me wine test for the wedding.”

  He stared at Rachel a moment, then nodded.

  “Why were you looking for me?” Beth’s heart tripped. Had he found out about Brick? She watched his face, looking for any signs, but it was near impossible to read General Shitstorm’s closed expression.

  “To take you to lunch, since we missed it the other day,” he replied. “We haven’t had a chance to catch up, and I was in town to pick up a part, so I thought it was worth a shot. But I see you’re busy…working…so I’ll see myself out.”

  Great. Now she felt like an ass.

  “Cord, wait.” She rushed forward to grab his arm, feeling bad for thinking he was checking up on her. “Stay. Have lunch with us. I’m sure Rachel doesn’t mind.”

  “Of course I don’t,” her friend assured. “And don’t worry. You’re not stuck with salad. I have some leftover pizza and can cook up some bacon, so you can toss it on top like you and my brother used to.”

  His gaze actually brightened. “Bacon? On pizza? Man, I haven’t had that in well over a decade.”

  “Then stay.” Her friend turned and headed for the refrigerator while Beth tugged him toward the island.

  “Yeah.” She squeezed his arm. “And you can tell me how you knew where to find me. I never gave you Rachel’s address.”

  A smirk actually lifted his lips as he sat down next to her. “No, you didn’t.”

  She snickered. The man was incorrigible, and shrewd, and she was shrewd…no screwed if he ever found out her secret.

  What she needed was a plan. One where she mapped out every stage and followed it to the letter. She was really good at that…top of her class. Too bad the only plan she had now was to avoid being in the same room with Brick and Cord until after Rachel’s wedding.

  As for a contingency plan—she lifted her goblet and stared at the mouthful of wine barely covering the bottom—it involved a bottle of wine and feeling sorry for herself, because that would mean the jig was up and she just couldn’t see Brick sticking around.

  Her only shot was to tell him the truth before he found out himself, but first, she needed to spend more time with him to make it harder for the guy to walk away.

  She hoped it worked.

  Chapter Seven

  It was Friday evening and Brick could think of a hell of a lot of other things he’d rather be doing than sitting around their rec room, in a circle of chairs, talking about his feelings, or worse, shit that happened on that damn mission that cost Drew his life and messed Leo up so bad he tried to take his own last year.

  But he was here because of Leo, to support him, and hoped to God the therapy was working, at least enough to keep the guy from dwelling in such a dark place he felt his only out was a bottle of pain pills with a whiskey chaser.

  To his credit, though, Leo did seem to be less pensive, and he participated more in conversations, even started a few this week. Great strides to Brick, especially since the guy had only been doing therapy a little over two weeks now. Several private sessions, and tonight marked their first group one, which—thank the Lord—just ended.

  It wasn’t like Brick had anything to do tonight or this weekend for that matter. Beth was tied up back in Austin, dealing with her convalescing boss, so he was going to shoot some pool with Cord as soon as they stacked the chairs back in the corner behind the wet bar. He glanced at his buddy folding his chair across from him.

  Yeah, good ol’ tightlipped Warlock was about as thrilled with this “get in touch with your feelings” bullshit as Brick. He sensed a six pack of beer in their very near future. Stone, Leo, and Vince, on the other hand, seemed to have no issues opening up.

  That was fine. Good for them. He was glad it was helping his buddies and his brother. The more the trio talked, the less time left for him or Cord to take the floor. Although, it hadn’t j
ust been them in the group; several men from At-Ease wandered in and sat for the session. He had the feeling this therapy thing was going to help more than just his buddies. If sitting in on it gave a few of the guys the incentive to do the same, then he’d gladly continue to do it.

  “So, Brick, you ever going to talk during a session?” Stone quirked a brow at him as they carried folded chairs across the floor.

  “Yeah.” Vince nodded. “Neither you or Cord said much.”

  A grunt Brick agreed with sounded from behind.

  Amused tolerance crossed the Italian’s face. “Sooner or later you two will have to share more than grunts.”

  If it weren’t for the frank gaze from Leo, and the imploring one from Stone, Brick would’ve answered with another grunt. “Not much to say. You all know I’m kind of here for moral support.” He passed a beer from the fridge behind the bar to everyone who lingered.

  “And I appreciate it.” Leo slapped his back as they lumbered to the assortment of couches and recliners and cushioned chairs in the far corner. “Hopefully, you’re taking something away from the hour.”

  Yeah, a sore ass and a hankering to find the door. He got the impression Cord felt the same way. They always did have the same mindset. Probably why they got on so well.

  “Once I realized the more I opened up and shared the better I felt, it made opening up easier.” Leo dropped down into a recliner and actually smiled. “You should try it.”

  Brick noticed two things. One, the guy appeared less rigid and didn’t walk around so damn stiff a slap on the back would snap him in half, and two, if they held the sessions in these chairs his ass would be a lot happier.

  “Nah. I’m good.” He settled back amongst the couch cushions, stretching his legs out in front of him. Yeah, this was a hell of a lot better.

  “Bullshit.” Stone snorted from the other end of the couch, putting the bottle to his mouth and tipping back his beer.

  Great, Stone-the-all-knowing was going to give his two cents. He could hardly wait.

  “You should listen to Leo. Maybe opening up in a session will help you to open up out of it, you know, in life. Make it easier to connect. Strengthen relationships. Open up communications…” That last part was delivered with a pointed stare.