by Tina Leonard
Carrie went cold. Lacey didn’t know, did she? Didn’t know about his injuries, his hearing, his leaving the forces. Did anyone other than her?
Lacey frowned at her brother. “I thought you were just hanging here, you know, while you were on leave or something.”
“I haven’t made any firm decisions,” Duke answered, avoiding her gaze. “But let’s enjoy dinner and put a pin in that topic for another time.”
Quinn had gone quiet, too. He and Carrie both knew that their livelihoods hung in the balance if the Duggan kids didn’t step up. If only Quinn could afford to buy it himself, he’d be awesome at running the place. But with his mortgage, and being a single dad... Neither one of them could afford to take any of it on. It wasn’t a big ranch, but it was worth more than either of them could muster up even if they pooled their resources.
“Daddy, can I have butter for my roll, please?” Amber’s voice cut into the silence.
“Of course you can,” he answered, and they all went back to eating. The comfort level never quite came back, though, and Carrie felt as if she was walking on eggshells for the rest of the meal.
* * *
DUKE COULDN’T FORGET the startled look that had shadowed Carrie’s face when Lacey had asked about the ranch. All the while they enjoyed their pumpkin pie and coffee, Carrie and Quinn were more subdued.
Duke hadn’t expected this. He’d thought to come here and sort things out—to worry about himself and his future, not be burdened with everyone else’s. Quinn disappeared with Amber for a while to put her down for a nap in the den and Duke felt a heavy weight descend on him. It wasn’t just his future that depended on what happened here over the next several months. It was Carrie’s, and Quinn’s, and all the other employees who relied on their jobs at Crooked Valley.
In the army, as a platoon leader, he’d felt responsible for the men beside him. It had been a mistake to think he could leave responsibilities behind.
“Are you okay?” Lacey came up to him as he loaded plates in the dishwasher. He stole a glance over at Carrie, who was busy putting leftovers in plastic containers. “Yeah, I guess.”
“You don’t seem happy, Duke.”
“It’s nothing. I’m just trying to figure some things out.” Like what to do with the ranch. Like what to do about his growing feelings for Carrie. Things were as much a mess as they’d ever been.
“You could start by unloading the ranch. You can’t hide out here forever. We all know you’re not the least bit serious about taking it on. Besides, I’ve got a job and Ry isn’t the settle-in-one-spot type. Why prolong it?”
It was a weird moment to hear his grandfather’s voice in his head, but he heard it just the same. You’re the eldest. It’s your responsibility to look after the others. To step up, lead by example and be the head of the family.
Grampa Joe had said that to him the day of his father’s funeral, and as Duke had grown up he’d taken it pretty seriously. They’d been at cross-purposes, because Duke’s interpretation of leading by example was following in his father’s footsteps and joining the army, rather than taking over the family farm.
Still, as he stood in his grandparents’ kitchen, he recognized the words. Accepted them. His mother had eventually remarried and built herself a new life. She’d never felt the pull of tradition and family the way Duke had. Even now, twenty-some years on, it was his job to lead by example. To be the head of the family.
To do the right thing.
“I’m not going back in the army,” he said, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Carrie straighten and stare at him.
“You can’t be serious. That’s your career! It’s all you ever wanted!” Lacey put her hands on her hips. “Why on earth would you throw that away for this? Living out in the middle of nowhere with just the horses and cattle for company?”
Carrie put the full containers in the fridge, and did it a little roughly. Did Lacey even realize she was being insulting? Carrie turned around and caught his eye and he saw the fire blazing there. In some ways Duke felt like a puppet with his grandfather pulling the strings, so it wasn’t hard to imagine that she felt something similar, only Duke was the puppet master.
“If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll check on the stock.”
“Oh, of course!” Lacey was all smiles and Duke gritted his teeth.
“You don’t have to go,” he said, stepping away from the dishwasher and moving toward her. “It’s your day off.”
“You and your sister need some privacy to talk.” She smiled, but he could tell it was forced. “Tell Quinn I’ve gone to the barns, will you?”
He didn’t argue because he understood. A minute later and the door slammed behind her.
“That was nice of her to give us some privacy.” Lacey put glasses in the dishwasher while Duke’s temper simmered.
“She didn’t do it to give us privacy, Lace. You don’t get it, do you? Joe left this place to us. Without us there is no Crooked Valley. Without Crooked Valley, Carrie and Quinn and all the other employees are out of a job. This is their livelihood, and you were talking about it like it was a joke.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Are you mad at me, Duke? Come on, you’ve never wanted to work this place. Or is it this Carrie woman who has you tied up in knots?”
He swallowed while the words what if it was? leaped unbidden into his head. “Things change,” he answered, putting a serving bowl down on the counter. “I’m not going back to the army, and I need to sort out where I go from here. Turns out this isn’t such a bad place to be.”
“As a consolation prize? Why on earth would you leave something you love? You’re only thirty. You still have lots of healthy years!”
This was it, then—telling his family, who’d only known so far that he’d been wounded and not seriously. He had no big scars, no limps to emphasize the point. And perhaps that was what made it most difficult. It seemed terribly unfair that everything changed over an injury that was so completely invisible. It made him feel like a fraud.
“But I don’t,” he explained quietly. “I lost hearing in one of my ears, Lacey. And it won’t ever come back. I’m half-deaf.”
There was silence for a moment and then she shut the dishwasher door. “What does that mean?”
“It means my combat days are done. And that’s what I loved. I don’t want to be sitting behind a desk somewhere. I’d rather take a medical discharge and start over.”
“Is that what Dad would have done?”
Did Lacey even remember their father? He doubted it. Duke barely remembered and he had a few years on her. “I’m not Dad,” he replied. “Maybe it’s time I stopped trying to be.”
While his sister absorbed that revelation, he got a soap tab, reopened the dishwasher and put it in, then shut the door and hit the start button. When he turned away he realized he only heard a low hum that was the water pulsing around the dishes. It should have been louder. Clearer. How many everyday sounds was he missing out on?
Lacey put her hand on his arm. “You really can’t hear?”
He stared into her eyes. His baby sister. The girl he’d lived to annoy half the time, and stood up and protected the other half. She never would have married that lowlife if he’d been home to talk some sense into her. Or into him.
“Only one side,” he assured her. “I turn my head a lot. Watch people’s lips when they speak. I’m adjusting.”
“What happened? All Mom said was that you were coming home for a while. Taking a break.”
“Because that’s all I told her.”
“What did she say when you asked her for dinner?”
He looked away. “I didn’t ask.”
Her next words were garbled and fuzzy, like a low murmur, and he turned his head back again. Dammit.
“What was that?” he asked, feeling st
upid.
“I said you can’t avoid Mom forever. I know you’re not a big fan of David...”
The new husband. Duke couldn’t even put his finger on why he didn’t like the man. He seemed perfectly ordinary and nice. He treated Duke’s mom well. She was happy. And yet he’d rather have dental work than think about spending a weekend at his mother’s new house.
“It’s not that...”
Lacey looked up at him, her eyes wide and a little too knowing for his comfort. “Just make sure you’re not hiding yourself away here, big brother. You never wanted to be a part of the ranch, so what’s changed?”
Duke thought back to the conversations he’d had with Quinn since arriving at Crooked Valley, the laughs he’d shared with the hands and the camaraderie he’d shared with all of them during the cattle drive and the resulting get-togethers. He thought of Carrie, leaving her menu closed at the diner because she had it memorized, the instant welcome he’d been given by the other ranchers at the Silver Dollar, the pinpoints of starlight late at night.
He thought of the softness of Carrie’s lips as he kissed her, the feel of her firm, toned body beneath his hands. The way she wiped her eyes in private because she’d had to show mercy to a wounded animal.
What changed was that in the absence of the life he’d known for the past twelve years, he’d made a new connection. One that would be hard to leave in the end. Crooked Valley was starting to feel like a home.
“She’s got to you, hasn’t she?” Lacey’s voice interrupted his thoughts quietly. “Carrie. Are you in love with her?”
“It’s too soon for anything like that. I like her a lot.”
“Enough to settle down here? Become a rancher? Are you crazy? God, Duke, you don’t know anything about raising cattle. Or horses.”
Quinn returned to the kitchen, saving Duke from answering, at least for now. “Phew,” Quinn said, slumping his shoulders. “I think someone had a little too much pie. Getting her to settle was an adventure today. Normally she hits the sofa in there and is out.”
“Aw, she’s a good kid,” Duke returned. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“It’s hard. Right now, not so bad. She’s small. But once she gets older and wants all that girlie stuff? And boys?” Quinn shook his head. “She won’t even remember her mother, you know? All she’ll have is pictures.”
Lacey looked up at Duke, then back to Quinn. “We lost our dad when we were little,” she said softly. “It’s hard, but Mom did a good job. You are, too. She’s sweet.”
Quinn’s eyes lightened a little. “Thanks. It’s funny what you can learn on the job when you have to.” He gave a little chuckle. “Like Duke here. We might make a rancher out of him yet. If he hangs around, that is.”
At that moment, Duke had an idea. He was going to wait until after the New Year before he made any decisions. Quinn and Carrie had both been so great he knew he owed it to them to really give this a chance. It was less than six weeks. More than enough time to play with some scenarios.
And in the meantime, there was Christmas. There’d been many years he’d been stuck in barracks or overseas that he wished he could be home for a big family Christmas. Why not have one, and have it here? It had been several years since they’d all been together for Christmas, and it had been good seeing Lacey today, remembering old times.
If he could convince Rylan to come... And he’d even invite Mom and David. She might be harder to persuade. She’d always hated the ranch, and he didn’t get the feeling she’d be too excited to visit. But he could extend the invite anyway.
The idea of having a real Christmas, with a tree and a few presents and the other trappings of the holidays, suddenly held a lot of attraction for Duke. If they couldn’t keep the ranch in the end, maybe they could be brought closer together as a family. Maybe, he mused, that was what Joe had wanted all along. And he never would have thought of it if Carrie hadn’t pressed him into inviting Lacey here today.
“I’ll be here at least through Christmas,” he said firmly. “I’m not going to decide anything until after the holidays. If that’s okay with you, Quinn.”
“I think that’s great. I can use the help, and if you’re around to pitch in, I’ll be able to take a little more time with Amber to get ready for the holidays. Take her into the city to visit Santa and do some shopping.” His eyes looked a little sad. “Marie always wanted to do that.”
It was very clear to Duke that Quinn had loved his wife deeply. It was a real tragedy that she’d been taken so young, so unfair to Quinn and Amber.
Lacey turned away and began cleaning the tablecloth and napkins off the table. “I’ll just put these in the laundry,” she said, her voice tight, and before Duke could answer, she disappeared down the back hall.
“Your sister’s not interested in the ranch, is she?” Quinn’s voice was quiet but clear, and Duke looked him in the eye.
“No, she’s not,” he answered. “But don’t panic yet. Nothing’s decided for sure, and there’s time before anything will change around here. I’ll make sure it’s all fine, okay?”
Quinn nodded. “I think I’ll go help Carrie. Four hands are better than two and she deserves a break.”
A few minutes later Lacey was still in the laundry room and Quinn was walking across the yard when Carrie came out of the barn. Duke took one look at her heavy jacket and red knitted hat and felt his heart slam against his ribs.
For a man so determined to stay away from responsibilities, he was sure knee-deep in them now. Because he’d meant what he’d said to Quinn. Somehow he’d make sure that everything would work out. For everyone.
Chapter Nine
Carrie stared mindlessly at the television. While it had been great having dinner with Quinn and Duke and Lacey, once she was back home her situation became disturbingly clear.
She didn’t normally mind being alone so much. She’d thought about it while she’d worked away in the barns after dinner. After her dad had vanished, she’d had her mom. And after her mom’s death, she’d had Joe, who’d stood in as a father figure in so many ways. But Carrie had no one. Quinn had Amber. Duke had Lacey—and other family out there if he was willing to swallow his pride and reach out. Make an effort. How she wished she’d had a brother or sister growing up. The only thing anchoring her life right now was Crooked Valley.
And even that was up in the air. Duke was making an effort, she could see that well enough. He might even choose to stay. But unless Lacey and Rylan came through, the only home she knew was still in jeopardy.
A commercial came on the TV and she burrowed farther into her blanket, but then a swath of headlights swept across the window. With the dark outside, and the lights on inside, she couldn’t see the vehicle. But the erratic beat of her heart told her she hoped it was Duke. And, oh, that was bad news.
She went to the door and peeked through the hole. Sure enough, Duke stood there, still dressed in his good jeans and his heavy jacket and Stetson, looking way sexier than she was comfortable with, carrying a bag of something in his hands.
She opened the door. “What are you doing out here?”
“Nice greeting. Makes a guy feel all warm and fuzzy.”
“Sorry. Come on in.” She stepped aside, feeling off balance. It had become a put-on-your-jammies-and-have-hot-cocoa night and not the optimal time to have an irresistible man show up on her doorstep. Especially a man she’d slept with. As if she could wipe those images from her brain...
“I brought you leftovers,” he announced. “Quinn took some home with him, and I took a dish with tomorrow’s lunch for me, but you didn’t get anything.”
“I could have gotten it tomorrow.”
“But then I wouldn’t be here.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Yes, that’s my point.”
He put the bag down on the floor. “Was it that bad?
Do you really want me to go?”
He was talking about their night together. She knew it and he knew it and avoiding him for a few weeks had only postponed this conversation. A conversation she was scared to have. It would be so stupid to take on a relationship knowing it was probably temporary. And a very good way for her to get hurt.
“I don’t know what to say, Duke.”
“Try the truth.”
But the truth was the most difficult thing of all, making her vulnerable. “The truth is it’s easier to put things in perspective when you’re not around. When you’re standing right in front of me, logic flies right out the window.”
He chuckled. “I’m flattered.”
She turned away. “It’s not a compliment.”
He laughed again. “That’s why I’m flattered.”
“You’re impossible!”
He took off his boots and left them at the door, then picked up the bag. “You should put this stuff in the fridge.”
Exasperating, that was what he was. Carrie snatched the bag from his hand and took it to the kitchen, plunking it down on the counter.
“Easy,” he said, his socked feet soundless on the floor. “There’s pie in there.”
She took out plastic dishes of turkey and stuffing, mashed potatoes, peas and pie, and would have put them all in the fridge except he stayed her hand with his fingers. “Leave the pie. I’ve got a hankering for another piece.”
“I don’t remember asking you in for pie,” she pointed out, wondering why she was being so snippy when she’d just been sitting here feeling alone and isolated. Now she had company and she was being rude.
“Miss Coulter, might I join you in a piece of this delicious pumpkin pie?” he asked, a twinkle in his eye and his voice as sweet and smooth as buckwheat honey. He looked so entreating that she couldn’t resist, and a smile crept across her lips.
“You’re incorrigible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
She put the other dishes in the fridge and returned, taking two forks out of a drawer. “Let me get a few plates,” she said, reaching for a cupboard handle.