The Rancher's Second Chance (Martin's Crossing Book 3)

by Brenda Minton

  “I’m not dwelling on the past. I just don’t like missing pieces. And I can’t believe you don’t care that we might have a little sister out there somewhere.”

  “I care,” Duke said with a shrug. “But I’ve dealt with the past. I’ve moved on.”

  Brody couldn’t disagree, but he wanted to remind Duke that he’d pretty much drank about ten years of his life away trying to get past what Sylvia had done to them. He hadn’t bottled up his anger. He’d unleashed it on the world, living fast and furious at rodeos, then in the army.

  Jake had become the family’s keeper, too busy for anything other than the ranch, his business and raising his siblings.

  Brody shook his head, thinking about the mess they all were. Just because one woman couldn’t be a decent mom. His thoughts spun to Samantha, their baby sister, left in the care of a dad who hadn’t been able to cope and brothers who hadn’t known what to do with her. So they’d shipped her off to boarding school.

  He guessed they all were at least semifunctional these days.

  “So what now?” Brody said. “Did you need some help out here today?

  “Not really. I have the guys handling the new heifers.” By guys, Jake meant the two men who worked for the Circle M. “I think they’re going to work on the fence after that. I have to go to Austin for a few days for a consulting job with a new company. Breezy and the twins are going with me.”

  “I can do whatever you need me to do around here. And I have a horse to look at this afternoon. I didn’t want to have to feed extra livestock through the winter, but it’s a good deal.”

  “I can’t think of anything that needs doing. Go look at the horse,” Jake said as he walked away from the truck. “I’m heading to the house to get ready for the trip. Let me know if you hear anything from Kayla Stanford.”

  “Will do,” Duke called out to his retreating back. And then, because things couldn’t go the way Brody wanted, Duke zeroed in on him. “And how long is Miss Thomas going to be a resident in Martin’s Crossing? She told Oregon she likes it here. She said she should go home, but she’s gotten used to small town life.”

  “I don’t have a clue what she plans on doing.”

  “Maybe you should be more attentive to the lady. You can’t catch her with this hard-to-get attitude.”

  “She very politely turned me loose a year ago and I’m respecting that.”

  Duke grinned, as though he didn’t notice Brody was done with the conversation. “You have heard that women change their minds, right?”

  “Yeah, so I’ve heard. I’m not so inclined.” Brody waved goodbye and headed for the trail that led back to his place.

  He hadn’t made it fifty feet when he heard Duke’s phone ring. He spun around, heading back that way before Duke even answered. When he got to the truck where Duke stood, he could see by the expression on his brother’s face that Kayla Stanford had returned their call.

  The call lasted only a moment. Because Duke was Duke, Brody didn’t have a clue how it went. He stood there waiting, leaning against the side of the farm truck. Duke pocketed the phone.

  Lilly’s dog, Belle, joined them. The animal sat at Brody’s feet, leaning on his legs, tongue hanging and a dog grin on her face, because Belle didn’t have a care in the world other than herding cattle and spending time with Lilly. Oh, and making sure her dog dish was full.

  “She’s our sister, all right,” Duke finally spoke. “She’s also the daughter of a lawyer in Austin. I’ve heard of the guy. He’s well-known and political. And Miss Stanford sounds like trouble with a capital T.”

  “Why do you say that?” Brody absently reached to pet Belle. The dog took a loving swipe at his hand with her tongue.

  Duke scratched his scruffy chin. “Well, she said her daddy sure is going to enjoy this scandal. He’s getting ready to run for office in a year or so and he’d like to keep family secrets hidden. I got the opinion she didn’t much care.”

  “Great. Another Samantha.”

  Duke laughed. “Sounds that way. She said she has to work but she’ll head this way in a few days. She can’t wait to meet us. And her dad never married Sylvia. Seems that Sylvia realized she wasn’t much of a mom, so when Kayla was born, she dumped the baby with her daddy and Sylvia skated out of town.”

  Brody shook his head, half mad, half sad for their mother, for Kayla Stanford and for anyone else left in the wake of the tornado that was Sylvia Martin. A part of him realized she probably couldn’t help it. He made the mistake of voicing that opinion. Duke shook his head.

  “Don’t make excuses for her,” Duke said with more anger than Brody had heard in his brother’s voice in a long time.

  “I’m stating a fact. She’s not a healthy woman, and she probably did the best thing when she left.”

  “That’s generous of you, Brody. But you don’t remember what she did to you that day. I can’t forget the marks she left on you.”

  “Maybe you should fill me in.”

  “You had black marks across your back, bruises on your face. I think she might have killed you for bringing that kitten in the house if me and Jake hadn’t pulled her off you. She hated cats.”

  Brody didn’t remember.

  “I guess that explains some things.” Brody finally edged the words out. “If there’s nothing else to do, I’m going to head over and look at that gelding.”

  “Go ahead. And, Brody, it really is good to forgive. It’s the right thing to do.”

  Brody nodded as he walked away. His phone had been ringing silently in his shirt pocket. He saw that it was Grace. He whistled for Belle to follow and headed down the trail in the direction of Oregon’s.

  As he walked he realized he was losing the battle—the one in which he kept his heart from getting all tangled up with hers a second time. Knowing that should have been enough to send him back to his trailer.

  Instead, he kept walking on the path to Grace.

  * * *

  As Grace poured herself a glass of juice, someone knocked on the front door. She hadn’t heard a car pull up, but still she went to the window, her heart racing, worrying that it might be Lincoln.

  She really thought she’d shaken her fears, but they came back at odd times. Especially now, knowing he’d bailed out of jail. Even with the restraining order Jake’s attorney had procured, she knew Lincoln could crash into her life again. It seemed she’d spent the past year afraid of being near him, afraid to turn him down. Afraid of what he’d do to her baby.

  “Grace, it’s Brody.”

  She relaxed, exhaling the breath she’d held. “Coming.”

  He stood on the front stoop, cautious, handsome, that one dimple deepening as he flashed white teeth. The bent-up cowboy hat covered his head, but stray curls brushed the collar of his shirt. His blue eyes were dark and lingered on her face.

  “I didn’t expect you.” Did she sound breathless, happy to see him? It hadn’t been her intention. But she was—happy, relieved and other emotions that she didn’t want to acknowledge. Complicated emotions that she knew would make decisions more difficult.

  Stay or go. These days the two choices were constantly nagging at her.

  “Didn’t you expect me? You called,” he teased as he entered the house. “Is there coffee?”

  “Afraid not. I could pour you a glass of orange juice.” She held up the glass of juice.

  “Afraid not.” He headed for the kitchen. “I’ll make the coffee. Have you eaten anything?”

  “I had toast. Brody, you don’t have to make me breakfast. I can cook.”

  He stopped at the door of the kitchen and glanced back at her. “Yeah, I know you can. I also know you probably won’t.”

  “Toast settles my stomach.”

  “Of course, okay.” He rubbed a hand along his jaw and studied her. “I h
ave to go look at a horse I might buy. Do you want to go?”

  She wanted to, yes, more than anything. But she shouldn’t. But she didn’t have plans, nothing to do. It felt as if her life was hovering in limbo, waiting for her to choose door number one or door number two. She wanted another option.

  Yes, she’d been praying. Praying and seeking and waiting. And it felt as if answers were still just out of reach.

  “Well?” He lifted the empty coffeepot, then returned it to the burner. “Forget coffee.”

  “I told you there wasn’t any.”

  “I know. Do you want to go?”

  “Let me get my shoes.” She gave him one last look as she left the kitchen. He was standing at the sink, and he saluted by tipping the brim of his hat and nodding.

  Her heart tripped all over itself. That gesture, the man, it was all too much. He was strong. He was vulnerable. He wasn’t always as sure of himself as he pretended to be. He had her heart in a way she hadn’t expected.

  They left a few minutes later, walking the short distance to his trailer, where he’d left his truck. He seemed to be having less pain than he had just weeks ago. She started to mention it but thought better of it. He probably didn’t want it pointed out.

  “Where did you say we’re going?” she asked as she got in the truck.

  “The Rockhurst ranch. It’s about fifteen miles from here. They have a gelding they want to donate.” He closed the door and got in on the other side. “How are you feeling?”

  “Good. The nausea is almost gone.” She took the opening. “And you?”

  He shrugged. “I guess I’m fine. Duke called our sister Kayla. She’s going to visit us.”

  “It’s a lot, Brody. Having a new family, finding your mom. On top of...” she didn’t finish.

  “The arthritis,” he finished for her.

  “Yes, I guess.”

  “It isn’t a year I’d like to relive,” he admitted.

  She wondered if he would include her in that sentiment. If he had it to do over again, would he wish he’d never met her? It made her think about what she would change about this year.

  She would have turned down Lincoln. She would have been stronger. Her hand stole to her belly because it was a hard thing to settle in her mind. She wouldn’t want a do-over with Lincoln. But this baby? She closed her eyes. Maybe she hadn’t planned on having a baby right now, but she was, and she loved the little person growing inside her.

  One choice led to another. To regret one meant to regret the other. What she regretted was Lincoln. She regretted losing herself, her faith, her convictions. She regretted mistakes made. She wouldn’t let her child grow up feeling like one of her regrets.

  “It isn’t easy, is it, Brody? Everyone says they would like a second chance to do something different. But when we break it all down, thinking about the lessons we’ve learned, the good things that came from those decisions, it’s hard to say we would do something different. I know people would judge me for saying that, but I love this baby. She isn’t here yet, but I love her and will love her.”

  “I know you do,” he replied quietly, his tone telling her it was okay.

  “I regret hurting you. I regret so much. But I don’t regret keeping this baby.”

  He reached for her hand and she let their fingers touch briefly before his hand returned to the steering wheel.

  Silence settled between them until they reached the Rockhurst ranch. It was a pretty place with rolling fields, a creek rushing through a rocky bed and hills in the distance. Horses grazed in a field fenced with white vinyl fencing.

  They pulled up to a brick house, long and low, with a truck parked out front.

  The owner of the place met them as they walked toward the barn. He was older, with thinning gray hair but a still-handsome face.

  “Brody, glad you could make it out here today. This gelding is a good little horse. He’s taught several grandkids how to stay in the saddle.”

  “I wouldn’t expect anything but the best from you, Jim.” Brody turned to wait for her. She caught up and his arm slipped around her waist, feeling protective. “Have you met Grace Thomas?”

  “I think we met at a rodeo last summer. You were with Jacki Thomas?”

  “Yes, sir, my aunt.”

  “I thought so,” he grinned. “Jacki is quite a lady. I argued with her once. It only took the once for me to realize I wouldn’t win.”

  At that Grace smiled. “I’ve had that same experience.”

  He led them to the barn. “I put Earl Grey in here last night.”

  Brody laughed a little. “Earl Grey?”

  “Don’t blame me. The wife likes tea and she named him when he was a foal.”

  He opened the stall door and Brody stepped inside. Grace watched as he ran a hand over the sleek neck of the dark gray horse. He rubbed the same hand down the horse’s legs, checking his hooves, then ran a hand across his back. He stepped around the back of the horse, patting his rump as he moved on to the other side. Grace leaned against the post of the stall as the inspection continued.

  “I can’t imagine you wanting to give him up, Jim.” Brody stepped out of the stall and closed the door.

  “Brody, this horse is a special animal. He just seems to get people. If you put a kid on him, he adjusts his entire temperament for that child. He takes care of them. If you’re going to start this camp, I want you to start with horses you can trust. And my grandkids have moved on. Either they needed more horse or they stopped riding altogether.”

  Grace thought she saw a shimmer of moisture in Brody’s eyes, but she wouldn’t mention it. He reached out and clasped the other man’s hand.

  “I’ll take him, Jim. And I’ll take good care of him.”

  The rancher nodded. “I know that, or I wouldn’t have offered. My only stipulation is that if you decide to end the camp, Earl comes back to us.”

  “I’ll put it in writing.”

  Jim Rockhurst shook his head. “No need. I trust your word.”

  The two shook hands again. “I’ll pick him up tomorrow.”

  “I’ll have him ready to go. And I’ll make the missus stay inside so she doesn’t chase you down the drive. She loves the idea of giving him to you, but she’s going to miss him something awful.”

  “She can visit anytime. She can even volunteer and help out if she’d like.”

  Jim walked them back to Brody’s truck. “I know she’d like that.”

  On the drive home Grace realized she would miss out. If she left Martin’s Crossing, she wouldn’t see this camp or meet the kids who would have their lives touched by an idea Brody had dreamed up and was bringing to fruition.

  “You’re awfully quiet over there,” Brody said as they drove through Martin’s Crossing. “Are you up for lunch at Duke’s?”

  “I would like lunch. And I was thinking that this camp is going to be a great thing and I’d like to be involved.”

  “Say the word and I’ll find something for you to do.”

  She wanted him to ask her to stay, to tell her she had a place in his life. But she couldn’t do that to him. She was going to have a baby who belonged to a man who had been his best friend. She’d made a lot of mistakes, but she wouldn’t hurt this man in that way.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Brody parked his truck behind the church on Wednesday night. He sat there for a long time, almost talking himself out of going inside. In the end he tossed his hat on the seat, brushed a hand through his hair and eased gingerly out of the truck. He headed for the back door, one careful step at a time. This was the consequence of overdoing it. That would be the chapter heading if he was writing a book on rheumatoid arthritis.

  He grabbed the rail of the steps and managed, because that was what he did. He bundled up the pain, disposed of it and m
oved on.

  As he walked through the classrooms toward the sanctuary, Lilly came out of the youth room and zeroed in on him the way she’d been doing for a year. Got to love this kid, he decided. She was loyal, unshakably loyal.

  “Brody, you are in big, big trouble.” She gave him the once-over and shook her head. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing much. And why am I in big, big trouble?”

  “Grace was trying to call you and she was worried.”

  “Thought I’d dropped off the face of the earth, did she?” He eased on down the hall, his niece following close by.

  “Kind of. She really was worried.”

  “I’m sure she was, but I’m here now.” He didn’t know how to tell his twelve-year-old niece it had been a long time since he’d been accountable to someone for his whereabouts.

  He’d save that for Grace.

  “I’ve got to get back to class,” Lilly hedged, still eyeing him. “You know, you could have let someone know where you were.”

  “Got it. Next time, let someone know.”

  “Right.” Off she went to storm some other unsuspecting person’s life.

  The next person he bumped into, literally, was Grace. She came out the door of the sanctuary as he was going in. He touched her arm and then the wall as pain shot down his leg. It took everything he had not to groan. Grace reached out, restoring him to rights, and gave him the once-over, head to toe. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m great.”

  “I was worried about you.”

  “I went to see Sylvia again. And now I’d like to go sit down.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “Bible study is starting,” he noted, heading into the room and knowing everyone was watching. He took the first pew, where they could look at his back and wonder. Grace slid in next to him.