She didn’t mind being on her own with the girls who had become her sisters.
She didn’t mind being alone in the world.
She didn’t, she told herself again.
But just once she’d like one of her parents to choose her.
She’d like someone to choose her.
Chapter One
Six years later
Whitefall, Montana, Speckled Horse Ranch
John slumped in the saddle, fell off his horse, and landed in a heap in the dirt and tall grass as the horse danced away.
Shocked, Noah jumped off his horse and kneeled beside his stepdad. “John? John, are you okay?”
John moaned and rolled to his side. Pale, a fine sheen of sweat covered his rugged face. His unfocused eyes filled with pain. “I have to tell you . . .”
“Is anything broken? Where do you hurt?”
John grabbed Noah’s arm. “I’m okay. Need to tell you . . .” John closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath.
Noah tamped down his panic and worries. A moment ago, they’d been sitting atop their horses on the overlook, staring at the long expanse of Speckled Horse Ranch spread out before them. Now, Noah grabbed John’s hands and pulled him up to sitting, hoping the weakness he felt in John didn’t mean something serious. “I need to get you home and to a hospital.” Noah’s mind went to a stroke or heart attack, neither of which Noah wanted to be true.
John’s limbs remained limp, his body unsteady. Noah went around to John’s back, squatted, wrapped his arms around John’s middle, and lifted him up to his feet. “Come on, old man, help me out.”
John reached for the saddle pommel.
Noah held John in place with his shoulder, reached down, grabbed John’s jean-clad leg, and helped him put his boot in the stirrup. It took all Noah’s strength to lift and push John into the saddle. Before John could topple down again, Noah swung up behind him.
Lucky for him, the horse took both their weight without bucking or rearing up and throwing them off.
Noah grabbed the reins and hooked one hand around John to keep him steady. “You okay?”
“This is damn embarrassing.”
He’d get over it.
Noah nudged the horse to head home and kept their pace brisk, even though he wanted to gallop. “Hold tight. We’ll be there soon.”
John placed his hand over Noah’s on his stomach. “You run this place well.” A man of few words, John didn’t say things he didn’t mean.
The praise stunned Noah. “I learned from the best.” Noah tried to pull John up, but John slumped forward again.
“I’m a difficult man, set in my ways. Rode you harder than any of the ranch hands.”
That he did. No sense arguing with the truth. Not at a time like this.
Noah resented John’s relentless drive when he was young. He had more than a few moments where he thought John thought he couldn’t do anything right. But John sprinkled just enough praise and encouragement along the way to remind Noah that John wanted him to be the best and a partner he could count on.
Noah owed John so much, so he’d worked hard to earn his place at John’s side on Speckled Horse Ranch.
“Your mother was a good woman. She loved you. Loved me, even though I never made it easy.”
“She was happy here.” Thinking about his mother always made him sad. She married John when Noah was two. Four years later, she died from complications due to an ectopic pregnancy. “I don’t remember her well, but I still miss her.” The admission didn’t come easy.
John’s big body trembled with the effort to stay upright in the saddle. His skin turned a sickly gray. Noah wondered if all this talk about the ranch and his mother meant John wanted to join her in heaven.
The thought stopped his heart. They couldn’t cover the ride down the hill and across the wide pasture fast enough.
“Beth was happy here. I was happy with her,” John confided.
When Noah’s mother died, John sat him down in his study and told him straight out that no matter what, he’d stay on the ranch. From that day on, even though he was only a boy of six, John had taught him how to run the ranch, working day in and day out side by side. Noah had no other family. He couldn’t lose the only father he’d ever known.
“After I lost Beth . . . well, no one could replace her. I tried but never found that kind of connection. So I settled. Lisa played to my ego. She made me feel young and alive again. But that all changed almost the minute we got married.”
Noah hadn’t liked Lisa from the second he’d met her. The feel of the house changed the instant she’d moved in, and he’d never gotten that sense of his mother and home back. Lisa’s presence, the way she changed this and redecorated that, sucked out the last reminders of Noah’s mom.
He resented Lisa for that and the dismissive way she treated John and their marriage. It left John even more closed off and disheartened.
Noah still didn’t understand why they married when they both carried on a string of affairs neither of them spoke about and tried to hide despite the other knowing.
Noah would never forget the look in John’s eyes when they stood outside the hospital nursery window looking in at Annabelle. He’d never seen anyone look so disappointed, and even more unbelievable, hurt. John never let it show that anything got through his thick skin, but seeing that squalling blond-haired, blue-eyed baby put that hurt in his golden eyes like Noah had never seen. To this day, although John always treated Annabelle with nothing but kindness, Noah sometimes caught him looking at her with that same hurt in his eyes.
Noah, young and uncertain about having a stepsister, hadn’t understood the look until days later when they brought Annabelle home and he’d overheard John and Lisa’s heated argument in their room that night. One look at Annabelle had told John what all of Lisa’s protests to the contrary didn’t. Annabelle wasn’t his daughter, but the product of one of the many affairs Lisa kept quiet but hadn’t managed to keep secret.
While John accepted Annabelle, even loved her in his own way, he’d never forgiven Lisa. Not for the affair, but for the undeniable proof that he’d been unable to get her pregnant himself after years of trying.
Noah remained silent on the subject. He focused on the ride, wishing for one of the guys from the stables to come out, see them coming, and help him with John.
“I don’t know why I married her. After your mother and the baby . . .” John ran his hand over his black hair that had grown more salt and pepper these last years. His Stetson still lay on the grass where he’d fallen. “I wanted another child.” John squeezed his hand hard. “Don’t get me wrong, you were a good son. I’m the only son to parents who had little family when I was born. Don’t know if any of them are still around. I just wanted my name, my blood, to be here long after I’m gone.”
Noah, still reeling from hearing John say he was a good son, high praise from a man who doled out very few compliments or niceties, understood the man’s need for a legacy.
At thirty-one, Noah had been contemplating his lonely-looking future and wondering if it wasn’t time to find a wife, have some kids, and make a family of his own. Without any good examples of a happy marriage and with a string of flings under his belt, he often wondered if he could make a relationship work.
Hell, who was he kidding, he’d learned from John, never let a woman get under your skin. He ended his last relationship because Cheryl wanted more than he was willing to give. Judging by the number of voicemails and text messages Cheryl had left on his cell phone, she wasn’t ready to give up on him.
John expected some kind of answer, so Noah said, “I understand. You took care of me, sent me to college, and gave me a job and a life here on the ranch, even though I’m not your son. I appreciate everything you’ve done. A lot of men, my father included, would have dumped an unwanted child.” He knew little about his own father, who cheated on his mother while she was pregnant with him. She divorced him, and his father took his freedom and never l
ooked back.
“You were never unwanted,” John replied, his voice gruff. “No matter my shortcomings as a parent, never think I didn’t want you here. You reminded me of myself at your age. You love ranching, the horses, the life. I enjoyed teaching you, seeing you discover new things. You wanted to follow in my footsteps. You put that college degree to work, changed things here and there, and helped make this place what it is today.”
A lump formed in Noah’s throat.
John broke the silence that settled between them. “I’m not proud of some of the things I’ve done. Most you know about, but some, well, I’ve kept a few things to myself. I have lots of regrets. One that is too late to make right. I hurt her because I was a coward, concerned about my reputation instead of protecting her.”
Noah had no idea who or what John was talking about.
“Listen, son, what I’m trying to say is that soon this will belong to you.”
Noah’s heart sank. He hoped that day wasn’t today, but feared John’s heavy weight against his chest meant something dire.
“I have things I want to say.” John sucked in several quick breaths. “Things. I. Need to tell you.” He struggled to get the words out.
“John, please, stop talking. We’re almost there. I’ll get you to a doctor.”
John winced in pain and leaned heavily to the side. It was all Noah could do to hold him up and against his chest.
“I need to get this out. You run this ranch, but you don’t know . . . everything. Promise you’ll take care of her. She’s never had anyone.”
“I promise. Annabelle will be fine.”
John’s head bobbed forward and up several times. “No. I need to tell you about . . .” John’s words trailed off and his whole body went lax.
Noah swore. Hoping he was close enough to the stables for someone to hear him, he whistled. The high-pitched sound carried and Robby rushed out and spotted them. Noah reined in next to the ranch foreman.
“What happened?”
“He collapsed. Help me get him in the truck.”
Robby took John by the shoulders. Noah swung down from the horse and caught John’s legs.
Annabelle ran out of the house. “Oh my God!”
“Get the truck door, Sprite.”
Noah and Robby muscled John into the front seat and buckled him in. No time to wait for an ambulance to drive all the way out here, they’d drive him to the hospital and get him the help he needed.
Noah hoped they would be in time.
The hospital waiting room walls closed in on Noah as he paced, his long stride eating up the stained carpet. He rolled his shoulders, but nothing eased the ache that had taken hold and wouldn’t let go. Wild thoughts raced through his mind.
He hung on to only one: John Cordero was the strongest, most stubborn man he’d ever met. He wouldn’t dare die of something as stupid as falling off his horse.
But John hadn’t been in the saddle in more than two months. He’d made excuses and complained of getting old and aching joints and too much damn paperwork.
The usual John complaints Noah heard so often, he didn’t think anything of it.
“Mr. Cordero?”
The doctor’s voice brought back the panic he’d felt seeing John unconscious in the truck.
“Yes. It’s just Noah. How is he?”
Annabelle stood and wrapped her arms around Noah’s middle. He hugged her close, needing her support as much as she needed his.
“Your father is in the ICU. He’s critical.”
“What happened?” Tears streaked down Annabelle’s pale cheeks.
“His condition has deteriorated over the last several months . . .”
“What condition?” Noah didn’t understand what the doctor meant. “John’s as healthy as a horse.”
“I’m sorry, I thought Mr. Cordero informed his family about his diagnosis.”
“Please, just tell us what’s wrong with him,” Annabelle pleaded.
“I’ve been treating Mr. Cordero for the past eight months. He has a rare brain tumor.”
“The trip to Chicago two months ago.” Noah put the pieces together.
“I sent him for some specialized treatment in hopes of shrinking the tumor and prolonging his life. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as successful as we hoped. Frankly, it was a long shot, but Mr. Cordero was willing to endure the treatment.”
“He’s been so tired lately.” Annabelle pressed closer to Noah’s side. At fifteen, she’d endured enough loss in her short life. Her mother, Lisa, fed up with raising a baby and John’s increasing disinterest in anything his wife did, walked out when Annabelle was just three.
Again, John lost the woman, but kept the child. He and John had done their best raising Annabelle on their own.
“Last I saw him a week ago, he was having difficulty with his balance, his vision was blurry, and his motor functions were deteriorating.”
If Noah had known he’d have never let John on a horse. The thought of what could have happened if he’d fallen while they galloped across the fields shuddered through Noah’s body.
“The tumor has caused some bleeding deep in the brain. It’s only a matter of time.”
“Are you saying he’s dying?” Annabelle couldn’t seem to comprehend the doctor’s implausible words.
“I’m sorry, miss, but yes.”
“How long?” A strange gruffness filled his voice, and Noah choked back the emotions welling up inside him.
Annabelle’s nails dug into his side, her grip tightening along with the band around his chest, but he didn’t feel the pain. Everything inside him went numb.
“Hours. Maybe a day or two.” The doctor waited a moment while they absorbed the devastating news. “Mr. Cordero left instructions detailing his wishes. I’ve contacted his lawyer, letting him know we’ve invoked the living will. We’ve made John comfortable. He slips in and out of consciousness with varying degrees of alertness. This may continue for a while. You’re welcome to stay with him in the room. If there is anyone you need to contact, I suggest you do it immediately.”
“Mary and Robby, our foreman, are at the house. They’ll want to come and say goodbye,” Annabelle stammered. “What about Mom?” she asked, uncertain.
“You can call her on my cell, Sprite.”
“She probably won’t care.”
Probably not, Noah agreed, but didn’t voice his opinion. “Try her. No matter what she says or does, at least you know you tried.” He dug his cell out of his dusty jeans pocket and handed it to her.
He waited for her to take a seat in the corner before he spoke to the doctor again. “Is there anything you need me to do? Decisions have to be made.”
The doctor clapped a hand on Noah’s shoulder and squeezed, offering what little comfort he could under the circumstances. “Eight months ago, I told Mr. Cordero to get his affairs in order. The living will he set up takes care of all the decisions needed in this situation. Spend time with him. Say goodbye.”
The doctor left with that damn sympathetic look on his face. Noah turned to Annabelle, worried about the call to her rattlesnake of a mother. Not surprising, Annabelle looked worse for talking to her instead of better.
“She’s not coming,” his sister mumbled, and dropped the phone in his hand.
He bent in front of her and put his hands on her knees. “I’m sorry, Sprite. You tried.”
“Fat lot of good it did me. She hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you. She doesn’t even know you.”
“Isn’t that worse?” Sometimes Annabelle was too damn smart for her own good.
Noah cocked up one side of his mouth. “Do you think she’ll ever change?”
Annabelle folded her arms over her chest. “No.”
“Then quit expecting her to do what you hope she’ll do, instead of the thing you know she’ll do.”
Annabelle’s head fell forward. “What’s going to happen to me?”
“What do you mean, Sprite?” He brushed
a strand of wet hair off her tear-stained cheek. He wasn’t prone to tender gestures, but her eyes were still bright with unshed tears, the blue depths filled with nothing but sadness and a fear he understood all too well. No one liked to be left behind.
“I’m a minor. If Dad dies, I’ll have to go stay with my mother. She doesn’t want me. She’ll leave me again and I’ll be alone.”
“Never.” Absolute certainty filled his voice, though he wasn’t sure he spoke the truth. If John died and Lisa wanted Annabelle, he’d have a hell of a time gaining custody. “I’ll never let her take you.”
He hoped Lisa didn’t get some wild bug up her ass and make him a liar.
“Can we see him now?”
He held his hand out to her. “Come on, Sprite. Stop worrying. No matter what, it’s you and me.”
“You swear?”
Noah understood her fear. Where she still held hope that her mother would come around and want to be with her again, Noah had erected a shield to keep people out and his feelings in.
Much like John, he’d learned that no one could hurt you if they didn’t know you cared.
“I swear. No one will ever come between us.”
About the Author
JENNIFER RYAN, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of The Hunted, McBrides, and Montana Men series, writes suspenseful contemporary romances with outrageous plot twists, deeply emotional love stories, high stakes, and higher drama. Her stories are filled with love, family, friendship, and the happily-ever-after we all hope to find.
Jennifer lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband and three children. When she isn’t writing a book, she’s reading one. Her obsession with both is often revealed in the state of her home, and how late dinner is to the table. When she finally leaves those fictional worlds, you’ll find her in the garden, playing in the dirt and daydreaming about people who live only in her head, until she puts them on paper.
Please visit her website at www.jennifer-ryan.com for information about upcoming releases.
www.avonromance.com
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