A Reunion for the Rancher (Lone Star Cowboy League 1)

by Brenda Minton

  As was the bank account that was dwindling to an all-time low.

  As she walked down the steps she saw Carson heading her way. Derek walked with him. The two were talking in a way that settled her nerves, because the conversation seemed halfway civil. She waited until they got to her and then she nodded toward the house, sending Derek on his way.

  He paused, looking down at her, a reminder that he was no longer a little boy needing her protection. He was a grown man. He could take care of himself.

  She had to let go.

  But she couldn’t.

  Derek started to say something, shook his head and went on inside. That left Ruby facing Carson. She lifted her head, determined to give him a verbal thrashing, but when their gazes clashed, she couldn’t. The words froze and time faded. She was seventeen again, telling him goodbye as he went off to college. She wasn’t strong or brave. She wasn’t able to hold it all together.

  That girl was long gone. She took a deep breath and let her gaze drift from his to the few cattle in their field grazing down the grass that wouldn’t get them through the winter.

  “He didn’t take the trophies. Why would he do that?”

  Carson drew back at the question. “I didn’t...”

  She held up her hand. “You can’t talk around a child. They have a tendency to not keep secrets.”

  He rubbed a hand over his brow and nodded. “You’re right. And I’m sorry.”

  “Are you? Sorry, that is? After all, you appear to think you’re in the right. You brought that little boy over pretending you were going to help out, be neighborly, but what you wanted to do is snoop. And then Lucy showed up. Is that all coincidence?”

  “Actually, it is a coincidence that she showed up. But I will admit I did come over to look...” He sighed and even looked a little ashamed.

  Good.

  “Of course you did. And now that you have seen, you can go.”

  He didn’t move. She waited, arms crossed, trying her best to appear brave as she faced him down. She arched an eyebrow for good measure.

  Impatient, he jerked off his cowboy hat and brushed a hand through his hair. “Ruby, can we call a truce?”

  “Why?”

  “Because we’re neighbors. Because we used to be friends.”

  She arched an eyebrow once again.

  He cleared his throat and jammed his hat down on his head. “Fine, we were more than friends.”

  Would a third eyebrow arch be too much? She sighed. “Yes, we were more than friends. But then it was made known to me that I wasn’t quite good enough.”

  “You were good enough.” He said it quietly. “More than good enough.”

  “Okay, well, let’s not go there, because we have different versions of the story.”

  “I guess we do. Someday we’ll have to compare notes.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’d rather not. I have a reason for being here, and you’re not included in that. I’m here for my grandmother and brother. I’m here to get this little ranch back in the black. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  “I have to get Brandon,” he reminded her with an amused glint in his eyes.

  “Of course you do.” So much for a dramatic exit. “I’ll get him for you.”

  “Hey, Ruby, I’d like to enroll him in your riding class. And maybe Derek could teach him to rope.”

  She had made it to the steps of the house and his words stopped her. Of all the things he could have said, she wished it hadn’t been that. Not him on this ranch, in her life, in her thoughts. Her heart still ached remembering how it had felt to know he was no longer a part of her world. She couldn’t let him back in knowing how that heartbreak had felt.

  But she couldn’t turn down the money one more student would bring.

  She turned, eyed the rancher standing in her yard, out of place in those poor surroundings. She’d been just as out of place in his world. They’d had a different circle of friends in high school. They’d had different experiences. Their worlds had clashed.

  His dad had been right, telling her they would understand when they got older and were thinking with brains and not hormones.

  “Have him here Monday afternoon at four. And don’t forget to enroll him in school.”

  He inclined his head. “Sure thing. Thank you.”

  “I’ll get him for you.”

  She headed up the steps, leaving Carson in the yard. But she didn’t make it inside. Gran opened the door, Brandon right behind her.

  “Carson, this is a fine little man you’ve got.” Iva eased her walker out the door, and Brandon followed. Ruby held the door for her grandmother and she avoided looking at Carson.

  “Thank you, Iva. I hope he was good.”

  “Of course he was good,” Iva assured him. “And he hasn’t been to church. A child shouldn’t be raised without some grounding in the word.”

  At that, Carson chuckled, the sound low and vibrating against Ruby’s nerves, already strung tight from his presence. “Iva, you think you’ve finally found a way to force my hand.”

  Ruby let the door close as her grandmother stepped out of the way. Iva sat down on the seat of her walker. “Of course I have. When you come to church, you all can come over here for lunch after. I’ll make apple pie.”

  “Gran,” Ruby started.

  Iva cut her off. “I’m being neighborly, Ruby Jo. Brandon needs church and it wouldn’t hurt Carson to have something sweet in his life.”

  Ruby wanted the porch to open up and swallow her. Instead, she gave Carson a meaningful glare, daring him to accept the offer.

  He ignored her, his focus 100 percent on her grandmother.

  “I’d love to come over, Iva. It might not be this weekend, but soon.”

  Iva cackled because she’d won. “That sounds good. It will be nice to have a big family lunch.”

  “Family dinners and apple pie are always a good bribe and you know it.” He leaned to kiss Iva’s cheek. Ruby rolled her eyes. He was that good. Just waltz in, charm her grandmother and invade her life.

  And she’d get the lecture once he left because she was only Ruby Jo when she was in trouble.

  He left, taking Brandon by the hand and leading the little boy across the lawn to his big Ford truck. Ruby waited until the truck was heading down the drive before she allowed herself to look at her grandmother.

  “Why?”

  Iva looked innocent, her eyebrows drawing in over narrowed eyes. “What?”

  “You know what. You invited Carson to lunch. Seriously? It’s bad enough that he wants me to give his nephew riding lessons, but having him here for lunch is too much.”

  Iva gave her along, steady look. “Only if you are still bothered by his presence. If he doesn’t mean anything to you, why would it be a problem to have him around?”

  “Because he thinks my brother is a thief. Because his family discarded me like trash. Because...”

  Iva did the eyebrow arch this time. Ruby didn’t want to see how much she resembled her grandmother in that gesture.

  “I know they hurt you. But I also know that you and Carson never talked about all of that. The check. His sister. It’s all in the past, but it’s also been buried and has been festering for a dozen years. Neither of you has moved on. Neither of you has gotten over being mad at the other.”

  “I think we have moved on. I got a job in Oklahoma. He’s running the family ranch.”

  “Yes, you’ve moved on. But it’s like running in place. Neither of you has gotten anywhere.”

  “Gran...”

  Her grandmother pushed herself to her feet. “Oh, Ruby, stop worrying. It’s just lunch and it might not happen for weeks. Or ever.”

  “Yes, just lunch.” With a man she’d once loved. A man she’d thought she would marry.

  A man who was still kind and caring. She knew he’d helped her grandmother. Now she knew he was willing to care for a nephew. She knew he cared about his community.

  She wanted to paint him as the villain,
but she couldn’t. She knew him. And knowing him made him even more dangerous.

  Chapter Four

  On Saturday morning Carson headed to town with Brandon in tow. And Brandon in tow was easier said than done. Even though it was only nine in the morning he’d already done a good day’s work. With his nephew tagging along, it had been double duty. Especially when by eight the kid in question had managed to open a gate and let out a few horses. He’d caught the wild barn cat and managed to get scratched up good. And then he’d turned on the water in the bathroom and left it running.

  As he drove Carson tossed his hat on the truck seat and brushed a hand through his hair. He cast a sideways look at the little boy and shook his head. The kid was almost asleep. And sleeping he looked pretty innocent. Cute, even. Carson felt the corner of his mouth tug up. Yeah, he wasn’t a bad kid. He just hadn’t had a lot of structure with Jenna.

  This morning he’d asked Carson when his mommy was coming back. Carson shook his head at that, because he didn’t have an answer. He’d even tried to call his sister. She hadn’t answered.

  Carson pulled up to Maggie’s Coffee Shop, grinning because not too long ago someone had stopped in town thinking to find one of those fancy city coffee places, not realizing a coffee shop was a diner with biscuits and gravy, strong coffee in a mug and maybe chicken fried steak for a lunch special.

  “Ready for breakfast?” he asked his half-asleep nephew.

  Brandon perked up. “Yeah. Pancakes, please!”

  “You got it.”

  He got out of the truck and motioned Brandon across, to get out on his side. The boy grabbed his own white cowboy hat and, with a grin, pushed it down on his head. He looked up at Carson, happy again and wide-awake. Together they walked up the sidewalk to Maggie’s. The place was packed, as he’d expected on a Saturday morning. Town was packed. He’d seen a dozen cars at Big Jim’s grocery store, and a half-dozen cars lined up at the pumps of the gas station. He guessed it was the nice weather. People wanted to get out and enjoy weather that was cool after a summer that had felt like they lived in a furnace.

  He knew what to expect when he walked through the door of Maggie’s. A couple dozen men would be drinking coffee and solving the world’s problems. And a few would be trying to solve the thefts that had been hitting their community.

  “Hey, Carson,” Ben Stillwater from the Stillwater ranch called out and motioned to an empty chair at their table.

  A table with Byron McKay and his twin boys, Winston and Gareth. The boys were sixteen and fortunately didn’t look much like their dad. They both had strawberry blond hair like him but favored their momma otherwise, and they had that look of too much money and not enough responsibility.

  Ben Stillwater was a twin, too. His identical twin, Grady, was in the army and stationed in Afghanistan. Ben had stayed home to rodeo and continue running the Stillwater ranch. They were identical, but that didn’t mean they were exactly alike.

  “Who do you have with you?” Ben asked, reaching for a chair at a nearby table and placing it next to him. “Is this Jenna’s almost grown son?”

  Brandon grinned and took the seat next to Ben. “I’m five.”

  “I reckon you are.” Ben shot Carson a questioning look that he could only answer with a shrug of a shoulder.

  Carson took the other empty chair and turned over the coffee cup sitting in front of him. The waitress, Sally Ann, only worked Saturdays. She smiled at the two of them as she hurried their way with coffee and menus.

  “What are you all having today, Carson?”

  “I’ll take the Saturday-morning special and Brandon would like pancakes and bacon. And to drink he’ll take—”

  “Chocolate milk,” Brandon shouted.

  Next to Carson, Ben laughed. “He’s going to keep you on your toes, my friend.”

  “Yeah, I guess he will.”

  Brandon gave Carson a look and then he turned to Ben. “I don’t think he can get on his toes. And Ruby is going to take him down a notch.”

  Ben laughed loud and long. People turned to stare. Carson shot him a look, hoping to quell his mirth.

  “That’s about the best thing I’ve heard in a long time.” Ben held his hand up. “Give me a fiver, little man.”

  Brandon grinned and slapped his palm against Ben’s. Carson turned away from the two, hoping that would keep Ben from asking questions about Ruby and how Brandon would have heard her say anything about him.

  The conversation across the table between Byron and another rancher caught Carson’s attention. He sipped his coffee and listened to the coffee shop gossip.

  The foreman for the Marley ranch, a spread on the other side of town, came in and sat at the table next to theirs.

  “Is it true you all got hit last night?” Byron asked as he shoveled a big bite of eggs into his mouth.

  “Yeah, ten head and they burned a few bales of hay. That’s leading me to believe we don’t have professional cattle thieves on our hands. Professionals don’t light up a blaze to let everyone know they’re around.”

  “Professionals don’t keep hitting small and taking things that don’t really matter,” Ben interjected as he cut up his biscuits and gravy.

  The waitress showed up with Carson and Brandon’s food. She refilled his coffee, placed the bill next to his plate and took a second to talk to the little boy in their midst. He was eyeing pancakes heaped with butter, chocolate chips and syrup.

  “Byron, have you all seen Betsy since her daddy died?” Ben asked, always being the one willing to wade right into troubled waters.

  Brandon, only five but not oblivious to tension, looked up, watching the men at the table. Carson sighed, wishing Ben had left well enough alone. Byron and his cousin Mac McKay had never been close. Mac had run his small farm, but that hadn’t been enough to pay the bills. And when it all had come crashing in, when he’d needed the help of a relative, Byron had turned him down flat.

  No one wanted to dwell on the night Mac, in a drunken stupor, had walked in front of a car. Betsy, his only child, had left town. Eighteen and on her own. Carson liked to think there were folks in town, himself included, who would have helped her out had she stayed. He only wished Mac would have taken his offer of help.

  “Betsy isn’t my problem,” Byron blustered. That brought Carson back to the conversation. “The girl is just like her dad. She isn’t going to get anything out of life if she isn’t willing to work for it. I didn’t give Mac handouts and I won’t give her any.”

  “She’s a kid,” Winston McKay spoke softly from his chair just a few seats down the table. He glanced at his dad and went back to eating.

  The two boys looked at each other. Meaningful looks. Carson watched, interested, and his opinion of the two boys came up a notch.

  Byron didn’t seem to share his opinion. “If I find out you two have been helping her, you will find out what it’s like to not have anything.”

  Ben cleared his throat. “Let’s take it down a notch. We’ve got a little cowboy here trying to eat his breakfast. And I’d like to enjoy mine.”

  “Agreed,” Carson voiced his opinion to let things settle a little.

  Byron blustered and set his cup down, slopping coffee on the bill next to his plate. He brushed it off with a napkin.

  “Yesterday Lucy went out to the Donovan place again,” Byron said, changing the subject without much finesse. “I still say that kid is guilty and we ought to just arrest him.”

  Carson sat back, looking at the other man and wondering why he couldn’t just be reasonable. “Byron, there are a few problems with that thought. Number one, ‘we’ can’t arrest anyone. Number two, the kid doesn’t have any of the stolen property. You can’t arrest someone just because you don’t like them.”

  “And you’re only taking up for him because that sister of his is back in town, and you’ve forgotten that your daddy didn’t want you messing around—”

  “Be quiet.” Carson leaned across the table. “I’ve had enough, Byro
n. You want to accuse your neighbors, stir up trouble and pit people against each other. But as far as I know the Donovans have never done a thing to you.”

  “I’m just saying they aren’t any better than that cousin of mine was. Mac wanted my money, my resources. They’ll take what they can—”

  Carson raised a hand. He didn’t need to hear any more. He was sure his dad had probably told Byron about the payoff to Ruby. That didn’t mean the rest of the county needed to hear it.

  “Byron, the last thing I need today is a case of indigestion, so let’s leave off. We can talk about something that matters or enjoy a little peace and quiet.”

  Ben cleared his throat. “I hear she’s giving riding lessons. I sold her a pony a few weeks ago. She’s going to need saddles if anyone has old ones they aren’t using.”

  Carson started to answer but before he could get the words out, Byron scooted his chair back and stood. He gave his boys a meaningful glare.

  “I guess I’ll just leave,” Byron grumbled as he grabbed the bill next to his plate. “But I want you to know, as vice president of the league, I’m going to start organizing patrols. Call it a neighborhood watch if that makes you and Lucy happy. If our sheriff can’t solve these crimes, we’ll do it ourselves.”

  “Go ahead, Byron. I’m not going to stop you.”

  His boys stood up, a nod acknowledging the other men at the table as they followed their dad out. Ben whistled and leaned his chair back on two legs.

  “That man is strung tighter than his fences!”

  “Yeah, just a little.”

  “About Ruby,” Ben waded in again, a big grin on his face.

  “Leave it. Can’t a man just eat his breakfast?”

  Ben laughed at that. “Yeah, I guess he can.”

  Carson finished his breakfast, wishing for once that he’d gone out of town for the meal rather than into Maggie’s and what appeared to be a real hornet’s nest. What he wouldn’t give for a quiet life.

  Instead of that quiet life he walked out of the diner some thirty minutes later with Brandon in tow. His nephew had managed to knock over his glass of chocolate milk, not once but twice. He’d poured salt in Ben’s coffee when they hadn’t been looking and he’d unscrewed the lid on the ketchup. Carson had fortunately caught that little trick.