Ryder sipped his coffee as they proceeded up the hill, then he heard the kitchen door slam behind him. Becca. She wasn’t walking quite as quickly as Noah had, but close.
“Where are they going?”
He waited until she was close enough to speak without raising his voice. “Wiley’s just taking him to the south pasture to look at some downed fence.”
Her jaw flexed in agitation. “You should have asked me first.”
She was right. As soon as he’d heard the door slam, he’d realized his mistake. He’d already seen what kind of mother Becca was—sensible, attentive, careful. Noah had excellent manners and he listened well, which wasn’t something Ryder had seen a lot of in his friends’ children. And most of them were being raised by stay-at-home moms. He’d hoped to have a son about Noah’s age by now—not a thought he wanted to pursue at the moment.
“When will they be back?”
Ryder shook his head. “Not sure. Remember, this is ranch country. We don’t have set times for things. It all depends on what Wiley sees when he gets out to the pasture.”
The agitation was now accompanied by worry lines on her forehead. Realizing his second mistake, he moved closer to her. “Look, I shouldn’t have been so flippant. Wiley won’t keep him out there long. He wanted to show Noah some cows, and I guess we both got a little carried away. But if you’d like, I can call him right now and tell him to turn back.”
Becca shook her head, looking in the direction the ATV had traveled. “No. It’s fine. Noah should get the chance to see everything he can before we leave tomorrow.”
He would’ve thought she was taking a jab at him if he hadn’t seen the way she was staring at that trail. The annoyance and concern were gone. Her expression had turned wistful, almost as if she were jealous that she wasn’t riding out into the wild blue along with them.
“You sure you want to leave so soon? I mean, I don’t know, maybe Noah has this much fun every day back in the city, but man, he sure does seem to love being on the ranch.”
Becca’s right eyebrow rose as she turned to look at him. No, he hadn’t been exactly welcoming. Maybe it was time to get a little more creative.
“I know my mom is getting a huge kick out of you two being here, especially for the holiday.”
Becca laughed. “Getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you?”
“What? Thanksgiving is only two days away. You’ll still be here, won’t you?”
“In Blackfoot Falls, you mean?”
He smiled, nodded.
“I’m not sure.”
“I figured you were on vacation.”
“We are.” She folded her arms across her chest in a defensive stance.
Hell, it wasn’t as if he’d been baiting her. Maybe a little. “You gonna travel on Thanksgiving? Try your luck at a restaurant on the way? I already know what kind of meal Otis and Mom are gonna be fixing, and if you think last night’s dinner was—”
“I’ve been to Thanksgiving here before,” she said, sticking her hands in her jacket pockets. Her coat might be lined, but it wouldn’t be warm enough for the change that was coming.
When it seemed clear that was all she was going to say, he figured he had nothing to lose by taking one more shot. He wanted her to stay. Only for his mom’s sake. “You feel like getting back in the saddle? Miss Kitty would sure enjoy it.”
She laughed, but when she turned to face him full on, she was shaking her head. “I don’t even know if I can ride anymore.”
“You learned when you were twelve. That’s not something you forget.”
Studying him with her head tilted slightly, she looked surprised he’d remembered. Of course he had. He and his dad had been the ones who’d taught her. “I may have learned early, but I didn’t ride much. Only during the summers and holidays when you were home from school.” She shrugged. “Even that petered out after you took up with Leanne and—” She blinked. “What?”
“Interesting way to put it,” he said, but she still seemed puzzled. “Took up with Leanne?”
“Oh.” Her gaze shifted away and she blushed slightly. “You knew what I meant.”
She had a faint sprinkling of freckles across her nose. How had he not noticed that before? He wanted a closer look, which was never going to happen. To be safe, he moved as far back as he could without being obvious.
“It wasn’t just that I took up with Leanne,” he said, smiling when Becca rolled her eyes. “I seem to recall you were pretty busy yourself.” He knew the exact moment she realized he was referring to her fling with rebellion.
She laughed and groaned at the same time. “Yeah, thanks for bringing that up.”
“Like the time you and Amy sneaked off and hitched a ride to Kalispell to go to that concert?”
“That would be one example.” She looked down, shook her head again, this time wearing a crooked smile. “That was just after I found out my mom was moving to Alaska.” She scuffed her boot on the dirt. They were ankle boots, black and better suited for city streets.
“I know that was rough on you.”
“I understand more now about why Scott’s life seemed exciting. He was already living in Alaska, working to change things, and Mom needed something to be involved in.”
“Something more important than raising her daughter?”
At his dry tone, she looked up, startled. Or maybe she’d reacted to what he’d said, not how he’d said it. He should’ve kept the comment to himself...
Except Becca, with her soft hazel eyes, was looking at him as if he’d hung the moon and threw in a few stars, just for her.
She blinked but didn’t look away.
Something eased inside him.
Then she gave him a shy little smile that didn’t do anything to help get him back on track. It might’ve even bucked him off a couple more feet.
“Sorry,” he said gruffly. “I should’ve kept my opinion to myself.”
“I didn’t hear an opinion.” Using the toe of her boot, she drew a design in the dirt. “To be fair, I think the real problem was that I didn’t expect her to actually leave.”
“She just up and left?”
“No. She gave me the choice to go with her or stay with my grandparents.” Becca shrugged. “I admit, I wanted her to choose me over some guy she’d met on the internet.”
“Well, sure.” Ryder noticed the pink returning to her cheeks, so he focused on drinking his coffee.
“I didn’t mean to get so maudlin. Or whiny.”
“You were a kid. You had every reason to feel that way. I can see why you acted out.”
“Yeah. Not very original, but it probably did me some good. I wasn’t all that fond of being wild and carefree. Not really my style.”
“Come on. Let me saddle up Miss Kitty. You and she both need to stretch your legs.”
“So I’ll be walking next to her?”
“Not the kind of stretch I was referring to.”
The pink came back to her cheeks. “I honestly don’t think—”
“You don’t want to humiliate yourself in front of Noah, do you? You’re his hero. You gave a horse a bath, remember?”
Sighing, she rolled her eyes. “Fine. But we’re walking. No trotting.”
Ryder laughed, glad they’d found some common ground. It didn’t change what he wanted to know, but it did make it a lot more comfortable for both of them. He’d assumed a lot about her, about Amy, which was a mistake. Lots of things had happened in the intervening years. To both Amy and Becca. And to him, as well.
By the time they were both on their saddles, she was more relaxed than he’d expected. He stuck to her ground rules and walked the horses toward the pasture, figuring they’d meet up or pass Wiley and Noah at some point.
“Okay,” she said, when they were just about at the top of the hill, “maybe we can canter a little. When we
see Noah. But nothing fancy.”
“Nothing fancy,” he repeated. “Check.”
“I’m not kidding. It’s been years since I’ve done this, and I don’t want to spend all night soaking in Epsom salts.”
He laughed hard. It was true, though. First rides were not kind on backsides. But then, he couldn’t help picturing Becca in the tub. She’d blossomed into a very attractive woman. No denying that. But to think of her in that way? Not smart. Not even for a few minutes.
“I never realized four-year-olds were so energetic,” he said, slipping right into the safe zone.
“You’re joking.”
“’Fraid not. I pictured having babies, you know, walking them around the house, buckling them into high chairs. Then I seemed to skip a lot and moved right on to how I’d teach them to ride and rope and catch a baseball.”
“Hoping for all boys, hmm?”
“No. Girls can do all those things, too.”
Becca smiled briefly, then said, “I’m sorry that didn’t work out for you.”
He shrugged. “I’ve still got time. And I’m sorry it didn’t work out with you and Noah’s dad. Does Noah ask about him?”
Becca tensed, her hands clutching the reins tighter, back even straighter. But then she eased up just a tick. “Not yet,” she said. “I know the time will come, though.”
“Does he at least help financially?”
Her shoulders drooped. “Can we please not talk about this?”
Ryder couldn’t help noticing the sadness that shadowed her eyes. Even her voice sounded drained. “Look, I really do want you two to stay longer,” he said, “at least through Thanksgiving, so I promise, no more upsetting questions. What do you say?”
“I should’ve known you were trying to butter me up.”
“Me? Butter you up?”
She raised both eyebrows.
“Okay. You’re almost right. It’s no secret my mom is loving that Noah’s here, but also that you’re here. I don’t know what’s going on with Amy, but you’ve been a real tonic, and I want Mom to have a nice holiday for a change.”
“So do I, Ryder. Truly. It’s been wonderful to see you, for Noah to be around the ranch. I’ve been trying to—”
Her phone rang, and she dove into her pocket for it, as if the phone would mysteriously vanish if she didn’t answer it in the next second.
He tried to act as if he wasn’t listening, when he was doing nothing but.
She frowned, then said, “You’ve got the wrong number,” and hung up.
Wrong number? Her whole demeanor had changed. She bit nervously at her lower lip, her thoughts as faraway as the Rockies behind her.
Becca finally looked at him. “I was hoping it was Amy,” she said, her voice barely carrying on the breeze.
Yeah, but she didn’t want him to think anything was wrong.
Amy simply had other plans. That was all.
He’d promised, though. No more upsetting questions. At least for the time being.
Chapter Nine
Becca pulled up the duvet on the queen bed until it was just under Noah’s chin. He’d fought so hard to stay awake, insisting he was too old for naps. But after getting up at an ungodly hour this morning, he’d helped brush Miss Kitty, relentlessly chased the poor barn cat, “helped” feed the horses and clean out the stable and had a tuna sandwich for lunch while he grilled Gail about what they were having for dinner tonight.
Becca could have used a nap herself, but instead she’d volunteered to help Gail with the pre-holiday prep. In a minute. Right now, she wanted to watch her darling boy sleep, his long dark lashes casting tiny shadows high on his cheeks. She loved him so much it hurt.
Of course, Amy loved him, too, and for four years, Becca had grappled with the fact that Amy’s life could turn around and that she’d beg to have her son back.
Becca wished she knew where Amy was. She’d begun thinking the worst, but yesterday’s call from Derek had revived her hope that Amy had gotten away.
Although why she hadn’t contacted Becca still bothered her. Derek had been obviously high when he’d threatened her, which was extremely unusual. Dealing was big business for him so he liked to keep a clear head. If he was using, things had probably gone badly with his Mexican supplier.
That was good news for Becca. He’d sounded too messed up to actually be a threat.
She blew out a breath. She still wasn’t sure what she would do when she did hear from her friend. Amy had a long road to recovery ahead of her. Assuming she wanted to get clean. Either way, she’d have to move out of LA, go someplace where Derek wouldn’t find her.
Would she expect Becca to quit her job and follow with Noah? And if Amy didn’t call, would Becca and Noah have to leave LA anyway? If Derek still proved to be a threat, then of course...
A shudder passed through her. Why hadn’t she considered that possibility before now? She might have if she wasn’t so tired and on edge. More likely it was because she hadn’t wanted to face facts. There were so many distractions here, not the least of which was the changeable Ryder.
There was also the chance that Amy might decide to come back home. Which would turn Becca’s life upside down.
Of course she’d want Noah with her. And of course, Gail and Ryder would hate Becca for not having told them the truth. She wouldn’t even blame them. The Mitchells were good people. She almost wished she hadn’t agreed to stay through Thanksgiving. How could her conscience allow her to leave without telling them about Noah, and possibly losing him forever?
Becca stood when her eyes misted, leaned over and kissed her son’s cheek. “You’ll always be the son of my heart,” she whispered. “No matter what.”
Then she left the bedroom, determined not to let even one tear fall. It helped that Gail was scrambling about the kitchen, opening cupboards and pulling out pots and dishes. Her cane leaned against the wall a good seven feet away. “Gail?”
She looked up, baking pan still in her hand. “Is he sleeping?”
“Down for the count. He’s had such a busy day. And it looks like you have, too. I hope all this fuss isn’t on our account.”
“I’ve missed this. We haven’t had a real Thanksgiving in too long. Wait till you try Otis’s cornbread stuffing.”
“Now, I seem to remember a certain secret-recipe mashed potatoes dish that I liked so much I had to skip pie until the next day.”
Gail’s eyes gleamed. “Well, try to save some room, because I’m not only making the mash, I’m also making my famous pumpkin pie, with the flakiest crust in Montana.”
Grinning, Becca, who’d left the bedroom with her cell phone in hand, went to put it in the back pocket of her jeans. Only it didn’t slide in nearly as easily as it should have. “Oh, God. No pie for me. Or mashed potatoes. How long have we been here, two and a half days? And my jeans are already too tight. How is that even possible?”
Laughing, Gail put the pan on the counter. “Don’t be silly, you look wonderful,” she said as she looked past her. “I need the big casserole dish from the top shelf and for someone to pick something up for me in town.”
Turning her head, Becca jumped at how close Ryder was standing. As he checked out her rear end...
The burn started up her neck, then spread into her cheeks and ears.
He entered the kitchen, giving her an impertinent wink as he passed, and retrieved the dish for his mother. “I sure hope you don’t expect me to go to the Food Mart. It’ll be a zoo.”
“No. I don’t.”
The back door opened and Wiley entered, carrying a big box of groceries. From the weight of it, Becca imagined there was a hefty turkey inside.
“Otis asked me to bring the things you asked for,” Wiley said. “And to lend a hand.”
Not far behind him, Otis pushed in through the door like a man on a mission
. “I never said you should lend a hand. I know better. You don’t belong in a kitchen. You hear me, Gail? He’s a menace. He can burn boiling water. Can’t scramble an egg to save his life.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake.” Wiley set the box down on the counter where Gail directed him. “Quit exaggerating, you old coot.”
“Do I tell you how to run this ranch? No, I don’t,” Otis said, waving a wooden spoon. “And you, buster, leave the cooking to those of us who know what we’re doing.”
“Who said I was gonna cook? I can fetch and carry so Gail doesn’t have to. I can set a table.” Wiley turned to Gail with a smile that could melt butter. “I can wash dishes and do whatever needs doing. Don’t listen to Otis. He’s gone funny in the head.”
“Stop fussing,” Gail said, looking from one man to the other, then lingering briefly on Wiley. “Both of you. Just stand there and be quiet while I talk to Ryder for a minute.”
Becca’s gaze shifted to Ryder. Was she imagining things or was Wiley flirting with Gail?
Ryder held her gaze just long enough to tell her she hadn’t imagined it. Then he smiled at his mother.
“I need you to go to the bakery,” Gail said. “Kylie will have something boxed and ready for you.”
Becca groaned. “Bakery? Oh, no. Maybe I should go to Abe’s Variety and buy a bigger pair of jeans.”
Ryder laughed, then quickly cleared his throat. “Want to come with me?”
Then it was Wiley exchanging an am-I-imaging-things look with Otis.
“I was kidding,” she said. “Sort of. Noah’s napping, and I have no idea what time he’ll get up. Besides, I’m going to help your mother.”
“Got that covered,” Wiley said, fixing the collar of his plaid flannel shirt.
“See?” Ryder pulled out his keys. “She’s got all the help she needs.”
“But Noah...”
“Nonsense,” Gail said. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of him until you get back. Besides, I can’t think with all of you in my kitchen. Now go, you two, and don’t hurry back.”
Ryder plucked his denim jacket from the rack by the door and then tossed the puffy one to Becca. As she followed him, she heard Otis and Wiley start in again.
To Trust a Rancher Page 8