“He does,” Becca agreed. “It’s a shame he doesn’t already have kids of his own, though. I know how much he wants them.”
Gail’s surprise was evident in her face and her posture. “How did you know?”
“He mentioned it.” She caught a strange glimmer in Gail’s eyes and hastened to add, “In passing, that’s all. He’s so good with Noah, it’s easy to see that he’d be great with his own brood.”
“He normally doesn’t like to talk about that. Even with me. He just tells me it’ll happen if it’s supposed to.”
Becca felt bad about bringing it up.
Gail patted her hand. “Don’t you fret. I won’t mention anything to him. I’m really pleased that he felt he could open up to you.”
“Thank you. I don’t want to do anything that would threaten this truce we have.”
“That’s what you’re calling it?” Gail’s grin made her eyes sparkle.
Lord, Becca hoped she wasn’t matchmaking. It was bad enough that Becca had stayed up too late thinking about that almost kiss.
Despite the blush creeping into her cheeks, she purposely rolled her eyes and picked up the cloth and the ladle.
Gail didn’t press her, but when her gaze hit on Becca’s cell phone, lying right there on the table, her light dimmed. “I wonder if Amy will call tonight. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
“It would be perfect,” Becca said, meaning it.
“What about your mother? Did you speak with her today?”
“I left her a message. We often communicate that way these days. Where she lives is fine, but out in the field, the cell service is unreliable. I expect I’ll hear from her before too long.”
“I hope Noah will be awake to wish his grandma a happy Turkey Day.”
The only thought that came to Becca was that he’d already done that, and now he was drawing the dec’rations for her Thanksgiving holiday.
Chapter Twelve
Dinner was a big hit—the food, the conversation, the laughter, all of it. Noah’s wide-eyed wonder at the size of the turkey and how much food was on the table at one time, Wiley’s affection for Gail evident in every word and gesture...and the calm and warm presence of Ryder who sat at Becca’s side made the meal perfect. Even Otis had left his grumpiness outside and basked in the compliments to his cornbread dressing.
Becca could have done without stuffing herself so much. She’d secretly unbuttoned the top of her jeans halfway through the meal.
Gail, who’d been in such high spirits all evening, looked over at the counter, where the old landline phone still sat. The hint of sadness dulling her eyes told Becca exactly what Gail was thinking.
“You all right?” Wiley asked.
Gail nodded. “I thought she’d have called by now.”
“It’s still early in LA,” Becca said, even though she was reaching. “She might have forgotten the time difference.”
Gail gave her a look that didn’t hold much hope, but then she pulled out a smile. “Becca and I will get the desserts ready if you gents will clear the table. I’ve already put on some coffee and Noah can have a glass of milk.”
“No pumpkin pie,” Noah said, accompanied by an emphatic fist on the table.
“Noah, that’s not nice,” Becca said. “Aunt Gail went to a lot of trouble to make us this wonderful meal. If you don’t care for something, you say ‘no, thank you,’ and that’s it.”
“But—”
“That’s it.”
His lower lip went out, although his pout wasn’t as effective with his little gravy mustache. Becca dabbed at it with her napkin before she got up.
She was on her way to the kitchen with a few plates when she heard Gail say, “Later, I’ll need someone to bring the Christmas boxes down from the attic.”
It got so quiet that Becca glanced back.
All three men were staring at Gail.
“What? It’s tradition. I always start decorating the day after Thanksgiving so we have a whole month to enjoy it.”
“You haven’t decorated in years,” Otis spoke first. “Not since—ow.” He glared at Wiley. “Why’d you kick me?”
Wiley didn’t say anything, but even Becca could see the silent signal he was giving Otis to shut it. Of course, Gail hadn’t decorated since her husband died, and probably even before that, when it became clear Amy wasn’t coming home.
Gail smiled. “You’re right, Otis, and there’s no need for violence, Wiley, however well intended. But this year,” she said, glancing at Noah, who was trying to peek under the table, probably hoping to get in on the kicking action, “I think a certain little munchkin might like to have the place look a bit festive.”
Becca’s heart sank. Not sure what to say, she put the dishes in the sink and got out the bowl of fresh whipped cream from the fridge. Surely Gail knew they weren’t going to be here until Christmas.
Becca had to get back to work while she still had a job. She’d told Warren it would be at least a week, but maybe a few days more. He’d understood up to a point. She still didn’t know what she would do if Amy didn’t call soon. Other than have a heart-to-heart with the Mitchells. Her stomach churned at the thought.
Gail came up next to her with the pie in hand. “I know you won’t be here all that long, but in the meantime, Noah and I will have a great time putting up the lights and decorations.”
Becca smiled. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”
Ducking her head, she made sure Noah was still sitting on his booster seat. Ryder and Wiley were collecting the rest of the dishes.
As soon as Ryder entered the kitchen, Gail said, “I hope you have time to go get us a tree tomorrow.” She raised her voice enough to carry into the dining room. “I bet I know a little boy who’d like to go with you.”
Noah quit fidgeting and brought his head up. “What?”
“Uncle Ryder is going to go find us a Christmas tree tomorrow,” Gail said, then darted her son a look. “Isn’t he?”
Ryder smiled and nodded.
“He has to go into the forest, find the perfect one and cut it down.” Gail frowned at the coffee maker. “Turn that on, would you, Becca?”
Becca closed the dishwasher and leaned over to flip the switch on the coffee maker. At the same time, she sneaked a peek at her phone on the counter, tucked out of the way. No missed calls.
“Uncle Ryder, you cut it down yourself?” Noah asked.
“That’s right,” he said, going back to the table for the serving bowls. “It’s tradition. Except this year, you’re going to help me.”
Noah couldn’t contain himself. He climbed down from his booster chair and started jumping up and down all over the dining room. “I choose the tree. I choose the tree! I cut it down?”
“Maybe not by yourself,” Ryder said. “You can choose the one you want, then watch me bring it down.”
Noah didn’t even pout. Just kept bouncing in his excitement.
Becca started to tell him to cool it, but Gail must’ve read her mind. She touched Becca’s arm and whispered, “He’s fine.”
“Probably driving Otis nuts.”
“Good,” Wiley said and set the platter with the leftover turkey on the counter.
Gail and Becca looked at each other and laughed.
“If you’re around tomorrow, Wiley, I could use your help stringing up lights,” Gail said, stopping him halfway back to the dining room.
“Well, Ms. Gail, you know it would be my pleasure.” He poked a finger in the air, where the brim of his hat would’ve been if he were wearing it.
Becca turned away, biting her lip, refusing to look at Ryder. Instead, she focused on Noah.
It hadn’t snowed yet, but it might before they went back to LA, and he’d never actually seen it snow, so that would be another treat...
Her thoughts came to
a sudden halt.
She had to stop assuming Noah would be leaving with her. Each new day confirmed what she’d already known deep in her heart.
The Mitchells were a fine family and Noah belonged with them. He was like a different boy out here. She hadn’t realized how much he loved being around animals. And riding on an ATV was, according to him, like flying, and he couldn’t get enough of it. Running with the cows in the pasture, running everywhere with nobody to clip his wings had been better than any gift she could ever give him.
How could she even think about taking him away from all this? Her eyes started to mist and she blinked hard, refusing to ruin the holiday.
With the table almost cleared, she took out the dessert plates and the pie server and put them all down on the counter while Gail retrieved the box from the bakery.
Otis put up a hand when Becca set a plate in front of him. “None for me, thanks.”
“You love my pumpkin pie,” Gail said.
“I’ll get my slice tomorrow, if it’s all the same to you.”
Ryder met his mom’s gaze. “He’s got his own tradition to tend to.”
“Of course. Silly me.” Gail shook her head. “Your moonshine.”
Ryder laughed as he looked at Becca’s face. “Just wait till you taste Otis’s brew. It’s legendary around these parts.”
“Um, I can’t even handle beer, remember?”
Gail glanced from Becca to Ryder. “Did I miss something?”
“What’s moooshine?” Noah asked. “Something for the cows?”
Becca was glad to let her blush settle while she put him back in his booster seat. “It’s a grown-up’s drink. Are you ready for dessert?”
He screwed up his expression as if she’d asked him a trick question. “Is it pie?” he whispered.
Gail walked over to them, and with great showmanship, opened the white box to reveal an oversize cupcake with a frosted turkey on top. Chocolate, of course. Noah’s favorite.
“That’s all for me?”
“You’ll have some tonight and some tomorrow,” Becca said, not wanting to deal with a sick little boy all night. “What do you say?”
He looked up at Gail with twinkling eyes, as if she’d given him the moon itself. “Thank you, Aunt Gail. It’s my favorite ever.”
Becca’s heart ripped again. She was caught between the biggest rock and the hardest place on earth, and she wasn’t sure how she was going to fix it. She didn’t want anyone to suffer because of her, but maybe it was her destiny to carry one more burden. One that would haunt her the rest of her life.
“You coming with us to pick out the tree?” Ryder asked, so close he was able to whisper, his breath warm on her neck.
A little shiver ran down her spine. “No. That seems like a good time to go to my grandparents’ house. See what kind of shape it’s in. It might be a little emotional for me, and I’d rather do it on my own.”
Ryder gave his mom an odd look, and then he nodded.
“I don’t think there’s electricity in the house,” Gail said. “The water is probably still hooked up, but it’s been over a year since your mother’s been by.”
“Ah, thanks, I wasn’t sure. It’s good that I’ll be going while it’s light out. I know she put aside some things for me, like the quilt Grams made for me, and there were some pictures I wanted.” Becca shrugged. “I’m not expecting much. Mom told me she’d donated most of the furniture to the senior center.”
“I think it sounds like the perfect time to go,” Ryder said. “You won’t have to worry about Noah.”
Wiley opened his mouth to say something, but Gail clearly had something else in mind. She took him by the hand and led him to his seat. “I think you should dole out the whipped cream, and no taking the lion’s share this year, my friend.”
Becca wondered if anyone else had noticed. That was, anyone besides Ryder. Gail hadn’t used her cane once the whole evening.
* * *
AFTER THE DISHWASHER was loaded, the food was all put away and his mom had gone to her room, Ryder decided to have a shot of his dad’s favorite brandy. But he wanted Becca to join him. Although she’d probably be completely wasted after one sip.
He grinned, thinking about her schoolgirl crush. He hadn’t given her much thought back then, so it was odd how he’d remembered so much. He’d been more concerned with college and Leanne, and knowing that he’d be running the ranch someday. He sure wished his dad were here to see how much the place had grown, and how well they were doing. But Ryder supposed his dad knew it anyway.
When he got to the living room, he poured two small glasses of brandy as he waited for Becca, who was taking a while putting Noah to bed. But then Noah had been filled with sugar and excitement over tomorrow’s adventure and was probably fighting sleep.
Ryder figured having one more brandy wouldn’t hurt, then relaxed on the couch, skipping his usual spot in the recliner.
Tonight’s celebration had been almost like old times. He wished his whole family could have been there, but he was glad they’d had Becca and Noah. That kid was a little firecracker. He didn’t just light up a room, he’d brought life back to the Sundowner.
Despite all the jumping and the many questions, he was a bright boy with a real spirit of adventure. Ryder had thought a city kid would be hesitant and awkward with the unfamiliar countryside and animals only seen on TV, but not Noah.
Partly, Ryder suspected, because of Becca. She was really something—young in some ways, yet wise beyond her years, reliable, considerate, strong. She sure hadn’t taken any of his crap. The more he got to know the adult version of Becca, the more interested he was in exploring something beyond friendship.
When she finally joined him, he could see worry in her expression, hesitation in her step.
He stood. “Is Noah all right?”
“What? Yes, he’s finally calmed down enough to sleep. He’s so excited about tomorrow, and tonight was very special.”
“You’re worried about something.”
She sighed, looked into his eyes, then away. “I thought Amy would have called by now. You know how much she loves holidays. She used to always keep in touch, and well, it bothers me.”
Ryder thought about giving Becca the brandy, but instead put his arm around her shoulder. “It’s been a while since she’s cared about the holidays. At least from my perspective. You know she’s called here before when she was drunk. Or high. Not all the time, but enough for us to realize she wasn’t exactly herself.”
Becca’s wince didn’t surprise him, but it made things a little more clear. She had responsibilities she couldn’t ignore. Amy’s life had obviously turned down a different road. He was glad, though, that the two women were still friends. Probably due to Becca’s loyalty, as he was beginning to see.
“Maybe she just got a little too festive tonight,” he suggested, “and she’ll call tomorrow.”
Becca didn’t seem convinced. If anything, she looked even more concerned.
“You don’t think so?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m worried about her.”
“So am I. But there’s not much we can do tonight.”
“No,” Becca said, clearly trying to appear more at ease. “Not tonight.”
“So how about you try a little drink? Just a small one. My father’s favorite brandy.”
Her expression, one that told him he wasn’t going to take her on that ride again, made him laugh. And then she smiled.
Time seemed to stop as their gazes held. He’d tightened his arm around her without even realizing it. All he had to do was lower his head a few inches for their mouths to meet. The very tip of Becca’s pink tongue slipped out to moisten her lips.
Damn, he wanted to kiss her.
“By the way,” he said. “I know you lied.”
She bl
inked, before her eyes widened. She backed away and he had no choice but to lower his arm. “What do you mean?”
Goddamn it.
Yeah, he was real slick. Great way to set the mood.
“That came out wrong. I know you were covering for her. You told my mom Amy was still bartending. I knew she’d quit. She told me herself a year ago. I didn’t think my mom needed to know, so I’m glad you covered.”
The explanation hadn’t put Becca at ease like he’d hoped. Her gaze kept darting toward the short hall to Gail’s room.
“Mom went to bed a while ago. She didn’t hear that. I promise.”
Becca just nodded. “You know what? I’m pretty wiped out.” She offered him a forced smile. “I think I’ll turn in, too.”
She didn’t give him a second to respond. Before he could open his mouth, she was racing up the stairs.
Chapter Thirteen
Becca climbed out of her car, the engine still rattling, and looked at her old home. It wasn’t very big, just a modest three-bedroom, one-bath, with a nice-sized kitchen and a living room that had been the center of her family life for nine years.
That single bathroom had been at the hub of a lot of ruffled feathers—mostly hers—when she’d hit her teens. But her memories were almost all good ones. Even through her parents’ divorce, she’d found great solace and joy in her grandparents. They’d been her staunchest advocates, her biggest fans.
Of course her mother loved her, but at heart, Katie was a woman in search of something larger than herself. She’d wanted to matter.
That probably accounted for her marriage to Becca’s father. A military life had taken Katie out into the big world and given her a credo she could stand behind. But she hadn’t counted on the loneliness.
Becca looked out at the old barn where they used to keep their milk cow and the chickens. It hadn’t been that color red when she’d last seen it. Or maybe she wasn’t remembering correctly. As she walked closer to the barn, she saw the paint didn’t look too old. But then, it had only been a couple of years since...
She pulled back her thoughts. She hadn’t even stepped inside the house; she wasn’t about to start crying already. There were too many good things to remember today. Noah was out having the time of his life choosing a Christmas tree. Gail was going through the ornaments and decorations, promising hot cocoa when they all returned.
To Trust a Rancher Page 11