Their Rancher Protector

by Sasha Summers

  He could have used those resources—any resources—about now. He was in debt to Mikey Gerardo, Vegas’s roughest loan shark, with interest mounting and another payment looming—all thanks to dear old Mom.

  Thrusting all those dark thoughts from his mind, he hooked the bag over his shoulder and followed Chase to the crew cab. He had to wait while his new buddy cleared the passenger seat of empty juice boxes and toys, tossing them into the back. He shot Danny a wry grin. “You have kids?”

  “Nope,” he said. All throughout his life, that was a message his mother had pounded into his brain. Children ruin your life. He’d certainly ruined hers. She’d made that more than clear. Naturally, he’d long ago vowed to avoid such a disaster. But then, he thought with a bitter twist in his gut, he’d managed to ruin his life all on his own. With a sigh, he hoisted himself up onto the step and into the truck.

  “Married?” Chase asked as Danny joined him in the cab.

  “Nope.” He had no idea why Lizzie sprang to mind just then—he had no idea why he still bothered to think about her anymore—but when Chase turned over the engine and the air-conditioning kicked on, he let all thoughts of her waft away in a frigid blast.

  “Well, be warned. As soon as you’re married, your truck’ll never be your own again.” Chase chuckled, reached into a cooler behind the seat and handed Danny a cold bottle of water.

  He grabbed it with gusto. Damn. Plain old water had never looked so good. He downed the bottle in two gulps, which made Chase chuckle again and hand him another. It occurred to Danny that Chase was a pretty happy guy, judging by how often he chuckled. But why wouldn’t he be happy? He had air-conditioning and a cooler filled with water bottles.

  “Thanks,” Danny said after he took a deep draw of the second bottle. “For the water. And the ride.”

  “No problem.” Chase set the truck in gear and headed down the lonely road. “We don’t get a lot of visitors in Butterscotch Ridge.”

  Danny gave him the side-eye. “How do you know I’m going to Butterscotch Ridge?”

  Chase shrugged. “Few folks take this road to go anywhere else. BR is a real small town. Small enough, I s’pose, that the locals figure it doesn’t even deserve all those syllables.”

  Danny aimed the AC vent to blow directly on his face. “How does a town get a name like Butterscotch Ridge, anyway?” He didn’t care, but he figured he owed this guy conversation at least.

  “Easy.” Chase shot him a wink. “The town founder’s wife thought the grasses looked like butterscotch in the dry season.”

  Danny glanced out the window at the passing range—which was, in a word, brown—and shook his head. Whatever worked, he supposed.

  “So what’s the town like?” he asked.

  Chase shrugged. “Nice. Quiet. Though it can get rowdy at my place on a Saturday night.” He waggled his eyebrows. “See, I own the only bar in town.”

  Danny huffed a laugh. “Pretty sure we’ll meet again, then.”

  “Yup. In a town like this, gossip is better than gold. On that note...why are you here, anyway?”

  Danny turned back to the window. Watched butterscotch-colored weeds flick by. “Need to meet with William Watney.” What else was there to say? He didn’t know much else.

  “Bill? You in some kinda trouble?”

  “No.” He hoped not. “It’s a legal matter. I’ll get more details when I see him.”

  “Yeah. Bill can be vague. But he’s a good lawyer. I’m sure he’ll take good care of you, whatever it is.”

  “Yeah.”

  They rode for a while in silence and then they passed an enormous gate that made Danny’s heart hiccup. The wood-burned sign swinging above read Stirling Ranch. Seeing the name from the letter made something in his belly curl. “Hey,” he said as casually as he could. “What’s that place?”

  Chase grunted. “That’s where the Stirling family lives. Local royalty. Family’s been here forever. They own a successful beef ranch. In fact, they own about half of the town, too.”

  A strange feeling needled Danny. It was all he could do to stay focused on the conversation. He jokingly asked, “Who owns the other half?”

  Chase didn’t seem amused. His lip curled. “The Cages.” He glanced at Danny. “Just a heads-up, by the way. There’s a huge feud between the Stirlings and the Cages.”

  “A feud? Over what?” And who are the Cages? What kind of town is this, anyway?

  Chase barked a laugh. “Who the hell even remembers? But it’s been going on for decades.”

  “Good to know.” Danny filed away that tidbit and stared out of the window as this all percolated in his brain. Especially the successful-ranch part. Though he had no idea what to expect, no idea what the will actually said. With any luck, he might inherit enough money to pay off his debts and maybe have a little left over to start up life somewhere else. Somewhere far from Vegas. The idea gave him hope. Something he wasn’t used to feeling. Naturally, he didn’t trust it.

  He sat up a little straighter as he caught a glimpse of a town on the horizon. It grew as they approached, the image of it waffling in the heat, making it seem like a mirage. As they drove down the main street, Danny caught sight of neatly painted storefronts and a town green with an actual gazebo. Just what you’d think a small town would be like. Where everybody knew your name and folks looked out for each other.

  Yeah. A mirage.

  Chase pulled up in front of a rather grand facade with William Watney, Esquire, emblazoned on the shingle. He snorted, pointing to a sign hanging on the doorknob. Watney had apparently Gone Fishin’.

  “Looks like Bill’s off the clock,” Chase said, backing out of the spot. “Where are you staying?”

  Danny blinked. Where was he staying? He had some cash, but not a lot. He’d been planning to sleep in his car, as he had on the way here, to save money. Obviously, that plan was shot. “I... Is there a hotel?”

  “Sure. The Butterscotch Inn. Just down the road.”

  “Awesome.”

  “Listen, I’ll drop you there so you can check in, then come on by the B&G—” he pointed to a rambling, large-windowed establishment, which proclaimed it had the best steak in the Columbia Valley, as they passed “—and I’ll buy you dinner.”

  “You don’t need to do that.” The guy had already helped him immensely. He hated to take advantage.

  “I know.” Chase winked. “Let’s call it a down payment on the scoop you’re gonna give me once you talk to Bill.”

  That sounded like a plan. Besides, Danny’s belly was starting to grumble. Still, after Chase dropped him off at the hotel, and he checked into his—air-conditioned!—room, Danny flopped down on the bed. He needed a moment or two to reflect on everything he’d learned. And everything he hadn’t.

  Of course, he ended up thinking mostly about Lizzie. He always did. Even though it was water under a very old bridge.

  Even now, more than five years later, he wished he could go back and change things. Wished he hadn’t said or done whatever had made her realize he wasn’t the man she’d needed him to be. He could only imagine that she’d decided she deserved someone better. Someone less...broken. His mother had told him he didn’t deserve Lizzie. Apparently, she’d been right.

  If only Lizzie hadn’t changed her cell number. If only he knew where she was, and that she was safe and whole.

  But mostly, he wished she was here. That he could talk to her about all this. He missed talking to her. Mostly, he missed having someone he could trust in his life.

  With a grimace, he reminded himself harshly that he couldn’t trust her. Couldn’t depend on her.

  After all, she’d up and left him. Just like everyone else in his life had done.

  Granted, they’d been fighting, but they’d fought before—mostly about his mother, or Darla—and Lizzie had stayed by his side. What had been different a
bout that fight that had driven her away? He’d asked himself that question a thousand times and never found an answer.

  It was a damn shame he couldn’t ask her, because after that night, she’d disappeared, and he’d never been able to track her down.

  Yep. Somehow, he’d blown the best thing that ever happened to him. What he wouldn’t give to have a chance—any chance—to win her back.

  * * *

  Elizabeth Michaels toyed with her necklace as she stared out of the windows of Seattle Children’s Hospital. She barely noticed the bright and shiny day, or the hint of Lake Washington in the distance, or the snow-capped mountains on the horizon.

  When she realized what she was doing, she let the necklace fall. Emma had noticed she fiddled with it when she was worried, and she didn’t want to let on.

  Emma noticed everything.

  Lizzie glanced back at the bed, where her daughter was solving a maze in a puzzle book one of the nurses had brought by. She’d always been a curious child, and clever beyond her years. Not satisfied to simply color, she needed more of a challenge.

  Well, life had certainly given her a challenge. One she might not survive this time. This time, her weakened immune system didn’t seem to be responding to treatment.

  As emotion bubbled up in Lizzie’s throat, she turned back to the window.

  “What is it, Mommy?” Emma asked, her voice slightly muffled through her Minnie Mouse mask.

  “Nothing, hon. I just thought I saw an eagle. But wouldn’t you know? It was just another seagull.”

  Emma’s tinkle of a laugh made her smile. Made tears prick at Lizzie’s eyes. “Mommy, we’re in the city. Eagles don’t like the city.”

  “Don’t they?” She pinned a smile on her face and moved across the room to plop on the bed. “Who told you that?”

  “Everyone knows that.” Emma’s eyes crinkled above the mask, so Lizzie knew she was grinning.

  “I think we should ask Dr. Blake. He would know.”

  “Mmm. Dr. Blake.” Emma’s eyebrows did a tango. “He’s cute.”

  “Yes. He’s very cute.” Also very young. Like, way young. “Maybe you can date him when you get older.”

  Emma dissolved into giggles and fell back on her pillow. “He’s too old for me.”

  “Is he?”

  “Yeah. I thought he would be cute for you, Mommy.”

  “For me?” Egads. The thought was a little frightening. Lizzie had been single for so long, she didn’t even think she would remember how things worked.

  Well, she probably would remember, but it hardly mattered. She had too much on her plate to even consider romance with her daughter’s doctor, or anyone. Not only was Emma’s illness complicated and deadly, it was also expensive. This stay alone would cost thousands. As a contract employee for a local accounting firm, all insurance and most medical costs were out of pocket. Her pocket.

  Lizzie thrust her financial apprehensions out of her head and focused on her daughter. Nothing was more important than Emma. She would do whatever it took to make her well again.

  “Ms. Michaels?”

  She bolted off the bed and whirled around as Dr. Blake entered the room. And, yes, he was handsome. Tall and dark-haired, with sculpted features. But he was a baby. Practically. “Dr. Blake. Perhaps you can solve a riddle for us?” she said.

  He leaned down and ruffled Emma’s hair. “I’d be happy to.”

  “It’s about eagles,” Emma said.

  “Hmm. Not my area of expertise, but shoot.”

  “Do they live in the city?”

  He grinned down at Lizzie’s daughter. “Indeed they do.” Emma groaned, and he added, “I saw one in a video from the Woodland Park Zoo just the other day.”

  “Zoos don’t count!” Emma insisted.

  “Don’t they?” Dr. Dreamboat winked at Lizzie. “I think they do.”

  “Oh, brother,” Emma huffed, and went back to her maze.

  The second the child looked away, the doctor’s expression sobered. “Ms. Michaels, can I speak to you for a moment?”

  Lizzie’s belly plummeted. Those were not words a parent wanted to hear at Children’s Hospital. Not after a week like this. “Um, sure. Emma, honey, Dr. Blake and I are going to have a chat. You know where your button is if you need anything, right?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” She was too engrossed in her maze to even look up.

  Dr. Blake took her arm—another bad sign—and Lizzie swallowed heavily. He led her down the sunnily painted hall to a consult room, which was also done up in incongruous cheer. He shot her a conciliatory glance as he waved at a chair.

  And she knew.

  “It’s not working,” she said. Might as well face it outright.

  He eased a box of tissues toward her and she took one, just in case. “It’s not. I’m sorry. We had hoped the bone-marrow stimulants would take before the immunosuppressants began undermining her immune system.”

  Lizzie sighed and mangled her tissue. She knew what that meant. Only one option left. “So we need to look for a donor.”

  “Yes. I see she doesn’t have any siblings, which are our first choice in these cases. How about close family?”

  Lizzie shook her head. “I have a sister, but the minute Emma was diagnosed, we both got tested. Neither of us are compatible.” It was hard to keep her voice from cracking under the enormous weight of such simple words.

  Dr. Blake set his hand on hers and squeezed. “Related donors are best, but don’t worry. There are a lot of success stories with unrelated donors. And Emma is a strong girl. She’s a fighter.”

  How Lizzie hated those words. They were true, but why should a five-year-old have to fight at all? Why should she have to fight for her life?

  “What about...?” The doctor cleared his throat. “On the father’s side?”

  Lizzie’s chin came up so fast she bit her tongue. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Emma’s father? Would he be willing to—?”

  “No.” He wouldn’t be willing to...anything.

  “Is there a chance? If he or his family are matches—”

  “He doesn’t have any family.” Just a heartless mother. “Besides, I don’t even know where he is.” She hadn’t seen him since—since that awful fight. What was it? Five and a half years ago?

  Dr. Blake nodded. “All right. I just thought I’d bring it up. We’ll go ahead and start the process of searching for donors. I’m not going to sugarcoat this, Ms. Michaels.” She wished he’d stop calling her that. “But with Emma’s blood type, it may take some time to find a good match. You do understand what that means.”

  She did. A chill racked her. Everything else had failed. Emma had only one slim hope left: finding a compatible donor with an extremely rare blood type.

  They both stood, but as Lizzie turned to leave the room, the doctor sighed and scrubbed at his face. “I just want you to know, Ms. Michaels, everyone here is determined to do our best for your daughter. We care deeply about Emma, too.” When his voice broke, it nearly broke her.

  “I know, Doctor.” She patted his hand. The irony that she was comforting him was not lost on her.

  She watched him head back to the nurses’ station with a heavy heart, confronted with the harsh reality that she’d been able to hold back for months. This time, Emma might not win.

  The facts were plain and simple. Emma needed a marrow donor. Blood relatives were the best options. She had no choice other than to track down Danny Diem—and fast—and ask for his help to save their daughter. Which was complicated, because he had no idea he had a daughter. He had no idea that he was a father at all.

  Copyright © 2021 by Sabrina York

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  ISBN-13: 9780369710130

  Their Rancher Protector

  Copyright © 2021 by Sasha Best

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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