The Rancher's Rescue

by Cari Lynn Webb

  He would’ve missed his appointment completely if he’d driven a tractor to Livingston. But he might’ve won Judge Edwards’s admiration. Not that he needed that. He only needed Judge Edwards to agree to a deal. If she refused, he needed her to grant a continuance on the summons. That’d give him time to talk to Jon and even more time to convince Ben to talk to him.

  Ben had been the one to work with Big E on the water rights with the Double T Ranch years ago. The case was supposed to be closed. The Blackwell Ranch needed to keep control of the water resources, otherwise Rachel and the Double T could limit their water usage and affect the livestock and the guests staying at the ranch. “I borrowed Katie’s truck.”

  “I’m sure that didn’t come without a cost.” Judge Edwards’s smile was in her gleeful voice.

  Only septic maintenance, toilet replacements in two cabins and hen-duty. “She was happy to help out.”

  Judge Edwards’s mouth thinned. “Where’s Grace?”

  He did not want to talk to Myrna Edwards about Grace. “This isn’t about her.”

  “Everything in your life is about Grace Gardner. The sooner you learn that, the better everyone will be.”

  He was fine. Well, working on being fine without Grace. It was bad enough he couldn’t stop thinking about Grace. He wasn’t going to talk about her now. With Myrna Edwards. He’d treated her dogs; she hadn’t become his confidante. “I came to request a continuance on the case of the Double T versus the Blackwell Ranch unless we can reach a deal.”

  “You received your summons,” Judge Edwards said. “There will be no deal on that particular court hearing.”

  “The summons arrived yesterday,” Ethan said. “There’s only five days before the hearing. That’s not enough time to prepare.” To get his brother Ben to call him back and come home.

  “You’d be surprised how much can happen in five days.” Judge Edwards set her hands on her desk and eyed him. “How much one can discover in the course of five days.”

  Ethan slumped back in the leather chair. Myrna Edwards had been at the Blackwell Ranch for five whole days. In those same five days, he’d learned that he resented anyone who tried to intrude on the memory of his mother. He’d also learned that he had a keen eye for the bow and arrow. A skill he still retained as he’d peppered the old barn with arrows last night. “We need to find representation for the hearing.”

  “That shouldn’t be too difficult.” Judge Edwards tapped her pen on her desk. “Day Three is a phone call away in New York, isn’t he?”

  Ben was only a phone call away if he answered his phone. “Yes, Ben lives in New York.”

  Judge Edwards consulted her desk calendar. “If you call him this afternoon, he should be able to book a flight this weekend. I’ll move the hearing until the following Friday.”

  “That’s not even two weeks,” Ethan said.

  “But with the holiday weekend, Ben will have plenty of time to get caught up.” Judge Myrna smiled as if she’d offered an exceptional bargain. “I added an additional five-day delay. Imagine what you can do in ten days?”

  It was going to take that long to convince Ben to come home. “That’s the best you can offer?”

  “Did you offer your best to Grace Gardner?” Judge Edwards asked.

  Why did the woman insist on talking about Grace? Grace wasn’t a part of his future. She’d chosen to stay in Falcon Creek. She’d chosen the safety of her home over him. He’d chosen his career over Grace. There was nothing left to talk about. Nothing left to work out, except that gaping void inside him. “Grace wasn’t interested in what I had to offer.”

  Judge Edwards shook her head. “Aren’t you tired from so much running, Day Two?”

  “Excuse me?” Ethan said. Why did everyone accuse him of being a runner?

  “You’ve been running from the Blackwell Ranch since the day your parents died and you haven’t stopped running since.” Judge Edwards took off her glasses and sighed as if she was tired for him.

  “I’m not sure...” Ethan’s voice failed him. Who was she to talk to him about running or his parents? She knew nothing about him. Referred to him as Day Two. He wondered if she even knew his first name. “Is there something I need to sign or paperwork I need to receive for the continuance?”

  “Documents will be forwarded to the Blackwell Ranch,” Judge Edwards said.

  Ethan checked the clock. He had two minutes before his thirty-minute meeting with Judge Edwards expired. He stood up and walked to the door. “Thank you for your time, Judge Edwards, and the continuance.”

  “Ethan, a word of advice,” she said.

  The use of his first name stopped him. He turned around, surprised for the second time by Myrna Edwards. First, her love of rescues and now the fact that she really did know his name.

  She pointed her glasses at him and said, “If you keep running, you just might miss the best part of your life.”

  “You ran from the Blackwell Ranch and Big E. Are you telling me that was the best part of your life?” Ethan asked.

  Judge Edwards put her glasses back on and shrugged. “Because I ran, I’ll never know. But you have the chance to do something I never did.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Stop,” she said. “Press pause, breathe and look around. Really look around.”

  He’d be sure to stop and look around at the last stop sign on his way out of Falcon Creek.

  * * *

  “I’LL TAKE IT.” Grace turned from the bay window in the living room of the renovated 1925 single-story home on the end of Back Street and smiled at Dana Brantley, her friend and real estate agent.

  “It’s a one-year lease with an option to purchase at the end of the lease.” Dana flipped through a stack of paperwork. “You’d also have the option to lease month to month after the one-year contract expired.”

  Certainly in one year Grace could turn a profit on her business and discuss something more than a rental. But for now, this home suited her needs with its chopped-up early-century floor plan just like Ethan had told her. She’d convert the living room into her office and keep the front half of the house for her business affairs. The back half of the house would be for living. Both bedrooms could be accessed from the kitchen and the full basement downstairs offered even more living space.

  The only downside: she’d drive by Dr. Norman Terry’s practice any time she went to Brewster’s or anywhere in town for that matter. And she’d be reminded of what she could’ve had if only Ethan had stayed. But she was having a child. And this would be their home. “When can we complete the paperwork?”

  “Give me an hour or so to contact the owners and draw up the contracts.” Dana stuffed the folder in her tote bag and checked her watch. “Can you meet me at my office after lunch?”

  “Absolutely,” Grace said. She took one last look around the living room, already envisioning herself there. She was anxious and eager to begin her journey. She’d reached for Ethan and failed, but she wouldn’t fail at this.

  Grace climbed into her car and finally checked her phone. She had thirteen missed calls and over twenty new texts. The most recent from Sarah Ashley: Full-on crisis mode at Brewster’s.

  Grace pulled away from the curb and dialed the private line at the store.

  Her mother picked up on the first ring. “Grace, tell me you’re on your way.”

  “I’ll be there in five minutes,” Grace said. “What happened?”

  “Payroll posted wrong,” her mother said.

  “That’s not possible,” Grace said. She’d left specific instructions.

  “We’ve been working with the bank,” her mother continued. Pages over the intercom for Alice Gardner disrupted their connection.

  “The bank?” Grace gunned it toward the store.

  “Automatic deposits processed and then this morning reversed.” Another page
went off for Alice Gardner before her mom said, “Just hurry, Grace.”

  Reversed meant that the employees’ paychecks had been taken out of the employees’ personal bank accounts. The phone line went dead. A block away, her cell phone rang. Grace answered, thinking it was her mother calling her back.

  But Ken Ware greeted her with a curt and extended, “Grace...”

  He’d never given her a chance to ask how he was. He launched into his tirade the second she’d replied. At his accusation that she’d mishandled his quarterly tax payment, Grace clenched the steering wheel and tried to see past the tears blurring her vision.

  She could swear she’d sent him the correct forms and the amount. She remembered going to the post office. But she’d picked up several special deliveries from the post office. Maybe she hadn’t mailed the forms? She needed to check her office. Grace pulled into the parking lot outside Brewster’s. Her mother was pacing the front porch, waiting for her.

  She was so stretched, exhausted and forgetful. Maybe she’d posted payroll wrong and never mailed the forms to Ken. What had she been thinking? She couldn’t leave her parents—she wasn’t stable without them. She was better off at the store in her closet of an office, living inside her safe zone.

  What had she been thinking when she’d convinced herself she could be a good single mother? She couldn’t even handle the simple needs of her clients correctly. Never mind the needs of a newborn.

  And the worst part: all Grace wanted was to break down in Ethan’s strong arms.

  If that wasn’t proof of the mess she’d become, she didn’t know what was.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  ETHAN CORNERED HIS brother in one of JB Bar Ranch’s new red barns. “Next time, you’re meeting with Judge Edwards.”

  Jon took off his hat and scrubbed his hand over his head. “Didn’t go well.”

  Nothing had been going well for days. Nothing. “She gave us another five days and told me to call Day Three.”

  “Did you tell Myrna Edwards that we have names?” Jon fired back.

  Ethan shook his head. He wasn’t convinced whether it was good or bad that Myrna Edwards not only knew his first name, but used it. He leaned toward preferring Day Two from Judge Edwards. “She wasn’t wrong. We have to call Ben.”

  “And order him to come home.” Jon shook his head. “Like that is going to happen.”

  “It’s going to happen because I need to get to Kentucky,” Ethan said.

  “You accepted the job then?” Jon locked the barn door and walked beside Ethan toward the house.

  “I have to take it.” Ethan stopped and faced his brother. “Grace is pregnant. The baby is mine.”

  “Wow. Okay. I thought there was something between you and Grace Gardner.” Jon stopped near Ethan’s truck and stared out over the field. “But a baby. That’s big.”

  Ethan waited, letting his brother process the news.

  “What now? I’m just supposed to congratulate you and then wish you well as you leave town?” Jon ran the back of his hand over his mouth as if he’d bitten into a rotten apple.

  “I’m taking a job that will launch my career, get me out of debt and allow me to send money for diapers and baby clothes.” What was so hard for everyone to understand about his choice? Surely no one wanted Ethan in debt and unable to support his child.

  “What about being a father?” Jon pushed his hat back and locked his gaze on Ethan. “How does this lucrative, career-building job make you a better dad?”

  “You think I should stay and marry Grace.” Ethan kicked at the gravel and paced away from his brother like he always did. He’d never been able to stand still and face his brother’s judgment. He’d never wanted to see that he’d disappointed his older brother. “You think I should get married because of the baby.”

  That shocked Ethan. After all, Jon had married Ava when she’d gotten pregnant with the twins. Their marriage had ended in disaster with Ava abandoning Jon and her infant daughters. Jon had still been picking up the pieces from that fallout until Lydia had arrived last month.

  “I never said anything about marriage.” Jon leaned against the front of Ethan’s truck as if content to let Ethan pace around all night in his driveway. As if content to withhold his judgment for the moment.

  “Grace refused to come with me to Kentucky.” Ethan kicked another stone.

  “Did you present her with the same list of reasons you just spouted off to me?” Jon asked with a half smile. “Money and your career.”

  “They’re valid reasons for taking that job.”

  “Sure, but there are also valid reasons for staying here in Falcon Creek,” Jon countered.

  “Like what?”

  Jon pushed off the truck. “Family for one.”

  “I can’t support a family if I’m in debt,” Ethan argued.

  “No, but you could open a large-animal clinic in one of the old barns on the Blackwell Ranch. You could actually put yourself on the ranch payroll now that the guest lodge is scheduled to make a profit.” Jon studied him. “And Grace has a job and from what I’ve heard a growing business.”

  “I don’t want to rely on Grace.” He’d always relied on himself. Always.

  “Why not?” Jon asked. “That is what partners who are committed to each other do. One day it’ll be your turn to carry her. That’s how good relationships work.”

  “Who said anything about a relationship?” Ethan asked.

  “You didn’t go to Grace’s hotel room that night on a whim. You didn’t spend most of your time at Brewster’s growing up for the retail experience. And you didn’t bring Grace up to the Blackwell Ranch every night to work on the accounts only.” Jon punched his shoulder. “Admit it, little brother. There’s always been something about Grace Gardner.” Jon stuck his finger in Ethan’s chest, right over his heart. “There’s always been something a little uncomfortable in there at the mention of Grace Gardner.”

  Ethan knocked his brother’s arm away. “I’m admitting nothing.”

  “And that’s why you’re going to Kentucky alone.” Jon shook his head and started toward the house. “Give your new career my regards and hug your flush checking account. I’m going inside to join my family and have a daddy-daughter game night. I wonder who’ll wake up smiling more. Me or you?”

  Ethan watched his brother walk back to his house. He heard his nieces’ laughter the moment Jon opened the door. He climbed in his truck and headed back to the Blackwell Ranch alone. Just like he wanted to be.

  Ethan parked his truck, called his brother Ben and left him another message to call him back ASAP. He added a text to Ben for good measure, then stared at his childhood home. The single light on the back porch wasn’t enough to fend off the oppressive darkness. He wasn’t in the mood for the happy, sparkly dollhouse world inside the house either.

  Ethan headed to the barn, drawn by the soft glow of the light he’d left on in the foaling stall. He’d often sought refuge in the barn as a child. He hoped Butterscotch wouldn’t mind the intrusion tonight. He’d checked her that morning and watched the monitor on his phone throughout the day. Katie texted that Butterscotch hadn’t eaten dinner, but the mare hadn’t been eating well the past few weeks.

  Inside the barn, he peered into several stalls and moved on to the foaling stall at the far end of the barn. Butterscotch paced around, seeming as restless as Ethan. He leaned on the gate, checked the time on his phone and watched the mare. He was unsettled about leaving his family; Butterscotch was restless from the impending arrival of hers.

  Ethan stepped into the stall, smoothed his palm down Butterscotch’s muzzle and assured the mare he’d be there the whole time. He wrapped her tail and stepped outside the stall to grab the birthing supplies he might need.

  He’d delivered his first foal with his father when he was seven. In the very same stall. Most likely around
the same time of night. His mom had woken him up, handed him a sweatshirt and shooed him out to the barn. His dad had promised Ethan he’d let him assist with the birth. Unfortunately, by the time Ethan had made it to the barn, the foal had arrived. Even his dad had been surprised at how fast the mare had birthed.

  The following year, Ethan had slept in the barn in an attempt not to miss the birth. That year, he’d been the one to notice the breach birth and yell for his father. His dad had let him sleep in the barn every year after that, claiming Ethan knew before the mare when the foal was coming. Those nights with the mares and his dad had been some of his favorites. He’d continued sleeping in the barn after his parents’ accident, not for the birthings—he’d simply felt the closest to his dad in the barn with the horses.

  Ethan stepped back inside the stall. “It’s you and me tonight, Butterscotch. Let’s keep this simple.”

  The mare snorted at him.

  Despite his years of veterinary school and the dozens of births he’d assisted in during his internships at Colorado clinics, the only voice he heard now was his father’s. The only instructor’s voice was that of his dad’s: calm, patient, helpful. He heard his father now. Calling out the time, instructing him on what to watch for: excessive rolling, too much straining.

  Ethan ran through his father’s checklist. Butterscotch’s water broke and he noted the time. Not long now. The mare lowered herself into the thick straw and lay down on her side. Ethan waited inside the stall. She knows what to do. This is the beauty of Mother Nature, Ethan.

  Ethan checked the time again. The foal’s front feet appeared. Ethan sighed for Butterscotch. She wouldn’t need to suffer through a breach birth tonight. Yet too much time passed. You need to see a nose quick, son. Otherwise you gotta help pull the little one out.

  Ethan grabbed the clean towel he’d packed with the birthing supplies and approached Butterscotch. “We’re going to do this together, Butterscotch.” Like he’d done with his dad. He’d done this many times with his dad, but it hadn’t been enough. He always wanted another chance. Another birth. Another night with his dad.