A Ranch Called Home

by Candy Halliday

  “People make mistakes,” Gabe said.

  “True. But it doesn’t really matter now, does it? Billy is…” She faltered for a second, unable to say the word.

  “Anyway,” she said, “I’m sorry about your brother. But as far as I’m concerned any connection Ben had with your family ended with Billy.”

  Gabe frowned. “And that’s where I disagree. Blood kin is blood kin. We Coulters have always taken care of our own.”

  He pulled the check from his shirt pocket, unfolded it and held it up for her to see.

  “Take Billy’s insurance money,” Gabe urged. “Use it to start a new life for yourself. But let Ben come to Colorado with me. Let me give Ben the home and the heritage Billy would have given Ben if my brother had lived long enough to find Ben himself.”

  Her reaction, however, wasn’t what he’d hoped for. She stared at the check as if it were a coiled rattlesnake ready to strike.

  “We’re done here,” she said.

  She whirled around and walked away.

  “I didn’t come here to play games,” Gabe called after her. “You go ahead and get your restraining order. But I have five years’ worth of information on how well you’ve been able to provide for Ben alone. I don’t think you want me to use that information against you in court.”

  She marched back to his cell.

  “Now you’re threatening me?”

  Gabe stepped back from the bars. She was so angry she was shaking. And the expression on her face said threatening to counteract her in court was the wrong thing to do.

  “Take me to court,” she challenged. “I dare you. If I cared a flip about your money, I would have shown up on your doorstep a long time ago. But a court of law might have a different idea. Force the issue and you may end up selling your horses and your ranch and giving Ben half of the proceeds.”

  The slam of the door at the end of the corridor as Sara left punctuated her words.

  “Dammit!” he cursed, feeling like a first-class jerk.

  He never should have offered her the money. And he definitely shouldn’t have threatened her just because she threatened him. He could see that now. But put a woman in his path, and he never had a clue what to do next.

  That’s why he’d never had a woman in his life—at least not a full-time woman. Women were too complicated. Too temperamental. Too damn hard to please.

  He was a rancher, not some smooth-talking womanizer like Billy. The ranch had always come first with Gabe, always would. He had horses to train. Ranch hands who depended on him for their livelihood. He didn’t have time for this kind of bullshit.

  “Damn you, Billy,” Gabe muttered.

  He walked away from the bars and flopped down on the solitary cot, wondering yet again how two brothers could have possibly been so different. He’d always been the responsible one—Billy never once considered the consequences of his actions.

  Just like with Sara Watson.

  There was no doubt in Gabe’s mind Billy had taken advantage of her being eighteen and innocent, just as she’d claimed. And Gabe certainly couldn’t blame her for coming to the conclusion that Billy wasn’t father material.

  Still, Gabe would chase her forever if that’s what it took.

  Unlike Billy, Gabe took his promises seriously.

  And one way or another he would take his nephew home.

  “WELL?” Dessie asked when Sara stormed back into the lobby of the sheriff’s office. “What did he say?”

  “Just as I expected,” Sara said, still fuming. “He offered me money for Ben. And when I refused to take his fifty thousand dollars, he threatened to take me to court.”

  “Fifty thousand dollars,” Dessie repeated, her eyes wide in disbelief.

  “It could have been fifty million dollars and it wouldn’t have mattered to me,” Sara said, pacing to work off her anger.

  “True,” Dessie agreed, “but if he has that kind of money to throw around, Sara, he’s a bigger threat to you than I thought.”

  Sara stopped. “What do you mean?”

  “Money talks,” Dessie said. “And big money means high-powered attorneys. I hate to say it, but you wouldn’t stand a chance against this cowboy in court.”

  “What’s this about court?”

  Sara and Dessie both turned. Sheriff Dillard walked out of his office into the lobby.

  “Sara was right, Howard,” Dessie said. “Coulter wants Ben. When Sara wouldn’t take his money, he threatened to take her to court.”

  “Well, I just got off the phone with the sheriff in Pitkin County, Colorado,” Sheriff Dillard said.

  Dessie looked over at Sara. “Howard ran a check on Coulter’s license plate. The Coulter ranch is located near a town called Redstone.”

  “And the Crested-C Ranch is one of the largest family-owned quarter-horse ranches in the state,” Dillard added. “Sheriff Carter not only knows our boy, but Gabe happens to be an old fishing buddy of the sheriff’s. Carter said Gabe is one of the most respected men in his county.”

  “That’s strike two against you, Sara,” Dessie warned. “He has money and he has a good reputation.”

  “There’s something else that might shed some light on why he continued looking for you after his brother was killed,” Sheriff Dillard said. “Gabe was at the rodeo when his brother was injured. And according to Carter, Billy made Gabe promise during the ambulance ride to the hospital that he would find his son and bring the boy home.”

  Sara shuddered, thinking about the news footage she’d seen on TV. She hadn’t realized one of the men hovering over Billy immediately after the accident was his brother. And apparently neither had the media, because Sara knew that story would have been milked for all it was worth.

  “I hate to say it, Sara, but that’s strike three against you,” Dessie said, shaking her head sadly. “There isn’t a jury alive who would rule against a man trying to carry out his dead brother’s last wish.”

  “Will you stop being so negative, Dessie,” Sara scolded. “What happened to the ‘march in there and tell him he’s messed with the wrong mother’ lecture you gave me earlier?”

  Dessie ignored Sara and directed her question to the sheriff. “Is Coulter married?”

  “Oh, please!” Sara said. “What does his marital status have to do with anything?”

  “His marital status has everything to do with this situation,” Dessie argued. “If Coulter doesn’t have a wife, who would take care of Ben if he did manage to win custody?”

  They both instantly looked at Dillard for the answer.

  “No wife,” Dillard said. “The sheriff described him as a loner, completely devoted to the ranch and his horses.”

  “Well?” Sara asked, looking at Dessie, then back to the sheriff. “No wife means one point for my side, right?”

  “Not necessarily,” Dillard said. “Carter said their folks were killed in an accident when Billy was in grade school and Gabe was still a teenager. Gabe stepped up to the plate, took over the ranch, and raised Billy himself.”

  “And we all know how well that worked out,” Dessie snipped.

  “Now, Dessie,” Sheriff Dillard said. “I hate to come to the man’s defense, but a bull killed his brother. Not a lousy upbringing.”

  “Don’t be so sure about that.” Dessie snorted. “Coulter intends to raise Ben on a ranch with a bunch of rough and tough cowboys, the same way he raised his brother. If you ask me, that’s too much testosterone for anyone’s own good.”

  Sheriff Dillard let out a loud groan. “Can we please not turn this into a man-versus-woman thing?”

  “Oh, hell, Howard,” Dessie grumbled. “It’s been a man-versus-woman thing since the beginning of time.” She grabbed Sara by the arm. “Come on, Sara. We’re wasting time talking to this old coot.”

  Sheriff Dillard immediately stepped in front of them.

  “Stop right here, Dessie. I’ve known you too many years not to recognize that look on your face. You’re up to something. And when you�
��re up to something, it always means trouble for me.”

  Dessie pushed past him but said over her shoulder, “I’m depending on you to keep that boy locked up until tomorrow, Howard. And if you intend to be reelected next term you’ll do your job.”

  With that said, Dessie marched Sara out the door.

  GABE STOOD when he heard the door at the end of the hallway open. He was hopeful Sara Watson had thought things over during the past three hours, and had finally decided to reconsider his offer. Fifty thousand dollars, after all, was a lot of money for anyone to throw away on foolish pride.

  His hope evaporated when the sheriff approached the cell. In typical lawman stance, both hands were at Dillard’s waist, feet planted firmly apart.

  He frowned at Gabe and said, “Your first mistake was offering Sara money in exchange for the boy.”

  Gabe didn’t even bother to argue.

  He’d already figured that much out for himself.

  “Your second mistake,” the sheriff said, “was threatening to take Sara to court.”

  “Well, what did you expect me to do?” Gabe asked. “She threatened me first with a restraining order.”

  “Do you really blame her?” Dillard asked. “You admitted you’ve been chasing her all across Texas for over a year now.”

  Gabe frowned. “I told you. I only wanted to talk to her.”

  “And it never crossed your mind the only reason she kept running was because you were chasing her?”

  “Bullshit,” Gabe said. “She kept running because she can barely keep a roof over her son’s head.”

  “And you never considered offering Sara the money so she would be able to keep a roof over Ben’s head?”

  “This isn’t about just keeping a roof over his head,” Gabe said. “This is about his heritage and his future. Half of the Crested-C Ranch belongs to Ben now. And one day I hope he’ll be the fourth generation to run it. But that isn’t going to happen unless Ben grows up on his own land and the ranch actually means something to him.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell Sara that instead of flashing your money in her face?”

  “I didn’t think it would make any difference to her.”

  “You don’t have much experience in dealing with women, do you, son?”

  Gabe sent him a warning look. “I’m in no mood for an education on dealing with women, Sheriff.”

  “That’s too bad,” Dillard said, “because your threats just put Ben and Sara in danger.”

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Desperate people do desperate things,” Dillard said. “After Sara left I sent my deputy over to the diner to keep an eye on her. I found out a few minutes ago she’s taking the boy to Mexico.”

  “Mexico?”

  “Dessie has a niece who runs a resort in Juarez just across the border from El Paso,” Dillard said. “I’m sure that’s where Sara will go. But do I need to draw a picture for you? Juarez is a dangerous place. Mexico’s underground prostitution is big business in Juarez. And Sara and Ben would both bring top dollar.”

  Fear sucker punched Gabe in the stomach.

  He shook the iron door in front of him.

  “Then let me out of here, Sheriff! Help me stop her.”

  “Not so fast,” Dillard said. “First, you tell me how committed you really are to your nephew.”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?” Dammit! Gabe didn’t have time for stupid questions. Not with a dozen horrible scenarios already running through his mind.

  “But are you here for the right reasons? I did a little checking on you, Coulter. I talked to your old pal Sheriff Carter. So look me in the eye and tell me the truth. Are you willing to do whatever it takes to give Ben the chance to grow up on his own land? Or are you really just trying to keep a half-assed promise you made to your dead brother?”

  For the second time that day, Gabe was thankful for the iron bars in front of him. Had it not been for those bars—and the fact Dillard was thirty years his senior—Conrad’s sheriff would have found himself flat on his back, compliments of Gabe’s own fist.

  But Gabe managed to reel in his anger. And he met Dillard’s gaze with a deadly calm stare. “A man is only as good as his word, and there’s never been anything half-assed about mine. I’ll do whatever it takes to give Ben the chance to grow up on his own land.”

  Before Dillard could comment, a loud squawk from the radio on his hip prevented his answer. He pulled the radio from its clip and clicked the button. “Go ahead, Joe.”

  “They’re on the move, Sheriff.”

  “Ten-four,” Dillard told his deputy. He clipped the radio back on his belt before he pulled a key ring from his pocket. “I’m going to take a chance on you, Coulter, and let you prove how good your word really is.”

  “You won’t regret it, Sheriff,” Gabe promised, motioning for Dillard to hurry and open the door.

  “But under one condition.”

  “Name it.”

  “If we stop Sara, you’ll let me do the talking.”

  “Agreed,” Gabe said, and he meant it.

  He’d only make things worse.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SARA BIT DOWN HARD on her lower lip when she saw the sign: Come Back to Conrad Again Soon. Lately she’d thought less and less about leaving Conrad and more and more about staying.

  In fact, just last week she’d found a small furnished house for rent within walking distance of the diner. In a few weeks she would have had enough money saved to place a rent deposit on the house. Her nightly prayers had all been the same: the search for them would end and she and Ben could stop running and live a normal life.

  But answered prayers were scarce in Sara’s life.

  She should have gotten used to that by now.

  “Don’t look so worried,” Dessie said, glancing over at Sara from behind the wheel of the dusty station wagon now headed for the border. “I know you’ve always considered Mexico your last resort, but aren’t you glad I pushed you into getting your passports?”

  Sara nodded, but only halfheartedly.

  The thought had already crossed her mind that applying for their passports was probably responsible for the detective finding them again. But there was no point in mentioning that possibility to Dessie and making her feel guilty about it. What was done was done.

  Still, Mexico had always been Sara’s last resort.

  She didn’t like the thought of living in Mexico. And she certainly didn’t like imposing on a stranger to take them in. Even if Dessie’s niece was willing to give her a job at the resort and a place to stay, Sara still didn’t like being put in the position to rely on anyone’s charity.

  She’d been a charity case her whole life.

  And she’d hated every minute of it.

  “Just think of this as a summer vacation,” Dessie chirped with far more enthusiasm than Sara could muster. “As soon as Coulter knows you’re in Mexico, he’ll give up and stop following you, I’m sure of it. By the end of the summer, you and Ben can come back to Conrad and pick up your lives where you left off.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Sara said with a sigh.

  “Of course I’m right,” Dessie said with confidence.

  But Sara wasn’t so sure.

  So many questions kept running through her mind. What if Gabe didn’t give up? And what if those high-powered attorneys Dessie had mentioned earlier were able to extradite them from Mexico? Even worse, what if she and Ben remained stuck in Mexico indefinitely, trying to wait Gabe out?

  Maybe, Sara decided, she should stopping running. Maybe she should stay in the States and take her chances in court. Fight for her rights. Prove to Gabe Coulter that she didn’t intend to run from him for the rest of her life.

  Her better judgment told her to turn around.

  But before Sara could relay that message to Dessie, the high-pitched scream of a siren jerked Sara’s head around.

  “Why, that’s Howard Dillard!” came Dessie’s surprised cry
when she looked in her rearview mirror.

  Sara kept staring at the flashing blue light. “What do you think he wants?”

  “I can’t imagine,” Dessie said. “But there’s a rest area up ahead. We’d better pull over and find out.”

  Dessie pulled into the rest area a few minutes later, the patrol car right behind her. By the time the station wagon rolled to a stop, Ben had his seat belt unbuckled and was already climbing out of the booster seat he hated. Standing up in the backseat, he waved out the back window when two men got out of the cruiser and walked in their direction.

  “It’s Uncle Gabe!” Ben yelled, and bolted from the car.

  “Ben!” Sara yelled.

  She jumped out of the car after him.

  But Sara froze when she saw Gabe bend down to scoop Ben up. Sara wasn’t sure what worried her most—Ben looking so happy, or Sheriff Dillard looking so perturbed.

  When they got close enough for her to snatch Ben away from Gabe, Sara wasted no time reaching for her son. Her gaze locked briefly with Gabe’s, but he handed Ben over without an argument.

  Dessie, on the other hand, didn’t waste any time stepping in front of Sara. “What’s going on, Howard?” she demanded, looking Gabe up and down. “And what’s he doing out of jail?”

  “Now, Dessie,” Dillard said, “let’s all calm down and take a seat.” He pointed to a shaded picnic table a few yards away. “Nothing good ever comes from a hasty decision. Before Sara crosses the border, I want her to know she has another option.”

  “What other option?” Dessie was quick to ask.

  Dillard nodded toward the picnic table again. “Like I said, Dessie, let’s all sit down like reasonable adults and I’ll tell you.”

  The sheriff headed for the picnic table.

  So did Gabe and Dessie.

  Sara first walked to the station wagon with Ben to retrieve his toy. She pointed to a water fountain several yards from the picnic table—far enough away that Ben couldn’t overhear the conversation.

  “Why don’t you take Thunder over to that water fountain so you can both get a cool drink?” Sara told him, knowing her son would play in the water for as long as she would let him.