by Becky McGraw
“That’s monkey business, mate. Having a naughty with her don’t give you rights,” he contradicted with a harsh laugh. “If the boss man knew what you were up to out there, he’d sack you. Told me that and said he told you that too.”
A little fear worked its way past Dylan’s boiling anger. “You gonna tell him?”
The Aussie stood up and studied him a moment. “Nah, no worries here,” he replied with a wide grin. “I mind my own, bloke. Wouldn’t have gotten out of the Diamond Bar station alive if I didn’t.”
“You worked there?” Dylan asked incredulously, temporarily distracted from his own problems by the fact that the Aussie cow hand had worked at the ranch recently shut down by the feds for a multitude of criminal activity.
“Yep,” was all he said, sealing his lips with the pop of the p at the end.
Without a backward glance, Zane carried his saddle and bridle toward the tack room. Dylan wiped down Cason, then took him to his stall, removed his bridle and shut the door. He hefted the saddle onto his left shoulder and walked toward the tack room.
Two hours later, freshly showered, Dylan grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator in the kitchen of the bunkhouse and took it back to his room. Zane and the other hands were laughing and watching television in the common room, but he didn’t feel much like watching TV or laughing.
Against all odds, fucking worry had been riding his shoulder since he walked through the door of the bunkhouse. Now that his anger had cooled a little, he wondered if Carrie was okay. He had no idea if she’d come back to the ranch, or gone home. Or if that was even her he saw leaving the ranch earlier. The only way he could find out would be to go up to the big house and talk to Joel, but that would be admitting he had been with her earlier. Exactly what Joel had told him not to do.
He could talk to Terri, but if he went up to the house the odds were at this time of the evening Joel would be there too. So Dylan stayed put and stewed. Tomorrow, if he bumped into Terri, he’d ask her casually what had happened. Right now, he was going to take a pain pill for his throbbing shoulder, drink his beer and hopefully pass out.
Tomorrow he was also going to get an appointment with the doctor to see how much damage he’d done to his arm. Hopefully not too much that he couldn’t get a release to return to the circuit soon. No, Joel hadn’t fired him, but Dylan could see the writing on the wall. The Aussie was going to take over, and Dylan was going to be left with nothing to do.
Ranch hands who had nothing to do were dispensable.
Zane also followed the rules, and didn’t make waves. Dylan wasn’t blessed with that ability. If he didn’t find trouble on his own, it always seemed to find him. It had been that way his whole life. He was better off getting back to the rodeo where the men were just as rough around the edges as he was. The sooner the better.
If he only had himself to worry about, that would be possible. If not, he guessed he was screwed, because he wouldn’t have a job here soon, especially if Carrie Collins turned up pregnant, and he’d have a kid to support. But if she wasn’t, he was out of here as soon as possible.
Walking into his room, he shut the door behind him then grabbed the amber bottle off of his nightstand and shook it. No sound. He held the bottle up to the light coming through the window and saw the bottle was empty. He was out of pain pills.
Wasn’t that just par for the course today?
Dylan walked to the closet and yanked down a fresh pair of jeans, pulled a t-shirt from his dresser and got dressed. He stomped into his boots, then left his beer on the dresser as he headed out to find Terri. His shoulder wasn’t really hurting too much right now, but he knew he’d never be able to sleep tonight if he didn’t have some help.
He found Joel in his office, who told him that Terri had already headed to the house. He went out through the back door, unplugged the charging cord on a golf cart, then hopped in and headed to the house Terri and Joel had built by the creek. He pulled to a stop at the front steps and got out. Dylan heard a baby crying around the side of the house, and figured Terri was out there with Jayden. He walked that way and stopped short when he rounded the corner. There was Jayden kicking and squalling, as a petite blonde haired girl tried to get his legs into the harness of a kid’s tree swing.
“Jayden, be still!” she said with frustration. She held him around the waist and he squirmed like a night crawler on a hook.
Dylan looked around for Terri, and wondered what the hell she was thinking leaving her son out here with this child who evidently couldn’t take care of him. He hustled over to them, and grabbed the baby from the little girl. He put Jayden on his hip and shushed him, like that was going to do any good. The kid screamed louder and hit him in the head with his tiny balled fists. Dylan had no idea what the hell he was doing here either.
The little blonde girl harrumphed then put her hands on her hips to stare up at him with angry green eyes. “Give me my baby back!” she screamed then stomped her foot.
“Your baby?” Dylan said, flinching as Jayden landed a right hook on his chin.
“Yes, I’m babysitting!” she said tilting her chin up arrogantly. “Give me my baby back!”
“Where’s Terri?” he growled holding Jayden tighter so he couldn’t land any more punches. The kid should be a prizefighter when he grew up. He was damn well suited to it.
“Miss Terri left me in charge—now give me back my baby!” The last part of her demand was hissed through the gap in her clenched front teeth.
“Where is Terri?” he repeated slowly, trying to hold on to his temper, just as tightly as he was holding the squirming baby. He lost his grip on Jayden and he slid down Dylan’s body. Before he could catch his feet the toddler bent his knee and landed his tiny foot right in Dylan’s crotch like a sledgehammer. Pain exploded through his body, all the blood drained from his head down to his balls, as he sank to his knees with tears burning his eyes.
His arms loosened, and the baby was snatched away. Dylan grabbed his balls, as he flopped onto his side in the fetal position trying to breathe through the pain. To breathe at all. What he was doing was little more than wheezing. He hurt that bad.
Then he heard laughter. Feminine giggles that couldn’t be coming from anyone other than the little blonde girl. She was laughing so hard, it sounded like she was bent over with it. Jayden’s little gurgle turned into giggles too, then he was squealing. Dylan’s back was to them, thank God, because if he saw that, he’d probably say something that ten-year-old little girls definitely should not hear, much less babies.
“What’s so funny?” Terri asked with a chuckle.
That was Dylan’s question exactly. The baby started cooing, so Dylan figured she must’ve picked him up. He rolled onto his back, bent his knees and threw his forearm over his eyes.
“Dylan why are you laying in the dirt?” she asked.
“Ask your son,” he wheezed. “He kicked my ass.”
“Probably no more than you deserve,” Terri said, cooing at the baby again which produced a giggle.
Dylan laid there a moment more and gathered his senses He huffed a breath and sat up. “I might need more pain pills than I came out here for.”
Terri’s eyes narrowed and she stopped bouncing Jayden on her hip. “Is your shoulder hurting again?”
Heat crawled up Dylan’s neck. He couldn’t lie to her. “I thought it would help me sleep.”
“I have non-prescription sleep aids that I can give you. I don’t dole out pain pills for that. But we are going to put another ice pack on your shoulder. Come in the house,” she said firmly, as she turned to walk to the back porch. The little blonde girl followed her, and as soon as he could breathe again, Dylan got to his feet and limped to the porch.
There was just one more reason he didn’t have kids, didn’t want kids. They were hell on wheels, and he just didn’t have the patience to deal with them. He wondered who the little blonde girl with the attitude was, and what she was really doing here. He knew Terri and Joel. Those tw
o were about the most overprotective parents who lived. Terri wouldn’t have brought a girl that young out here to take care of her son. Maybe she was a relative here for summer vacation, he thought, as he walked into the back door.
That notion quickly fled when he heard Terri tell her, “That was your mommy on the phone. She said she’ll be here to pick you up soon. She isn’t far away.”
“I want to stay here and help you take care of Jayden. It’s no fun at grandma’s house. It’s boring,” she said, sticking out her lower lip.
“Maybe your mommy will bring you back to take riding lessons from Miss Rocky soon.”
Evidently her mother was a friend of Terri’s, he thought, as Terri waved him into a chair at the table. Dylan took off his shirt, and sat down. Terri put Jayden in his high chair and walked to the refrigerator.
“I’m scared of horses. They’re big and I’m little,” the girl said with a tremble in her voice.
Dylan looked over at her and snorted. “There’s nothing to be scared of.”
“My mommy said that too. She’s little too, but she likes to ride horses. I’m still scared.” She walked over to the high chair and stuck out her finger. Jayden’s face lit up and he grabbed it in his chubby fist then jerked her hand up, before slamming it down on the tray. Yep, definitely a prize fighter.
“Your mother should teach you to ride then,” he said, as Terri stopped beside him to put ice packs and Ace bandages down on the table.
The little girl spooned what looked to be apple sauce into the baby’s mouth. Jayden swatted her hand and the sauce flew into his hair. He patted his head and mashed it in real good, before grabbing a hunk of her hair. “Ouch, Jayden. That hurts!” she squealed.
Terri spun around, gasped then went to the high chair to free the girl. “My God, Jayden you wear more of your food than you eat! It doesn’t work unless you get it in your mouth,” she said with a laugh as she grabbed a dishtowel to clean him up. “Dylan can you wait a few minutes while I go give him a bath and put him to bed?”
“Sure,” he said, with a huffed breath. The last thing he wanted was to hang out here, but it looked like if he wanted his shoulder wrapped, and the sleeping pills, he’d have to wait. Motherhood came first.
“Thanks. I won’t be but a minute,” Terri said, pulling out the tray and lifting Jaden. Dylan watched her walk out of the kitchen, and thrummed his fingers on the table.
A small hand dropped over his to hold them to the table. “Stop doing that it drives me crazy.”
Dylan grunted and pulled his hand back. “Well your bossiness drives me crazy.”
The girl’s lower lip trembled, and her green eyes filled. Dylan felt like a first class ass. He was a first class ass. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. Digging for something to distract her from bursting into tears, he said, “You’re scared of horses because they’re big. Have you ever ridden a pony?”
Just that fast the clouds cleared from her eyes, and they widened. “No, what’s the difference?”
“Ponies are more your size. We have a few here on the ranch for smaller riders to learn how to ride.”
“Show me,” she said with excitement.
Dylan held back a groan. “It’s getting dark.”
“It’s not dark yet. Let me go tell Miss Terri!” she squealed and ran out of the room.
Not two minutes later she ran back in the room. “She said I could! When I get back I can read a story to Jayden. Let’s go!” she grabbed his hand, and just like that, Dylan was roped into taking her to see the ponies.
Just the thing he needed tonight, he thought, as he stood and shrugged back into his shirt. He just wanted a beer and blessed sleep, but it looked like he was going to give this bossy little hellion a tour of the ranch. “Grab a couple of apples out of that bowl on the breakfast bar.”
“Why?” she asked running over there to pick up two apples.
“Ponies like apples,” he explained flatly.
“I like apples too,” she said taking a big bite out of one, then smiling with it showing in her teeth. Thank God. Maybe her mouth would be too full to chatter all the way to the little barn.
“What’s your name anyway?” he asked as they walked outside .
“Izzy,” she replied, then slurped on the second bite of apple she’d just taken.
“Is that short for Isabelle?”
“Isabella. But my mommy only calls me that when she’s mad at me,” she said with a giggle, before she sat in the passenger seat of the cart.
“Well, hold on Izzy. I don’t want you bouncing out on your butt when we hit a bump.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied, more respectfully than she’d been to him thus far. She studied him a second as he drove across the yard. “What’s your name?” I heard Miss Terri call you Dylan. Is that your name?”
“Yeah, Dylan is my name,” he said with a huffed breath.
“I like that name. What are the ponies names we’re going to see?” she asked.
“I don’t know which ones are still out there, but they had Buster, Snowflake and Sancho last time I was out there.”
“Which one is the nicest?” she asked.
“Probably Snowy,” he replied, his knuckles tightening on the steering wheel.
“Then she can be mine,” she said resolutely, crossing her arms. “I won’t ride her, but I’ll feed her apples and treats.”
Right then it became Dylan’s goal to get her on the back of that pony. There was no reason in the world that a kid should be afraid of a horse, especially a kid-sized pony. She just hadn’t been taught the pleasures of riding, and he blamed her mother for that. She knew how to ride, according to her daughter, and enjoyed it.
If he hadn’t found horses, animals, bucking bulls, Dylan would have never found himself. He’d have probably wound up in jail, or on the streets, because without the distraction animals provided, the foster homes he was in would have driven him to that.
Thank God for the junior rodeo program that saved him.
Kids needed distractions. Especially kids in trouble like he was then.
CHAPTER TEN
Even after Ronnie got out of her small convertible in front of Terri’s house, Carrie sat there trying to catch her breath. It felt like someone had punched her in the gut and she hadn’t been able to catch a decent breath since she’d seen her son in the cold, concrete room at the juvenile detention center. Since she heard the charges that were pending against him. Found out his probation had been revoked by the judge. The no nonsense juvenile judge that even Ronnie thought they might have problems dealing with.
Trace hadn’t pressed charges for Chris stealing his truck and crashing it into a tree. But the state had decided they were going to press charges for that, for evasion because he ran from the police, instead of stopping, and a weapons charge for the shotgun which had been laying on the front seat.
A cold chill raced through her body. That shotgun could have gotten her teenage son killed if he’d been stupid enough to grab it, instead of getting out of the truck when the police told him to at gunpoint. And like she thought he would, Chris had clammed up when she tried to talk to him. When the police tried to get an explanation out of him, he hadn’t said a word either. Even Trace couldn’t drag it out of him.
Why? A fresh wave of tears overwhelmed her and she took a deep shuddering breath, as she pulled the handle to get out of the car. She had to get herself together, because the last thing she wanted to do was upset Izzy. Leaving her son there at that detention center had been the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life. If Izzy knew, she would probably never forgive her. She had a feeling Chris would never forgive her either. The only crack in his armor had come when she told him she wasn’t bailing him out. The fear in his eyes right then was almost her undoing.
But he was going to tell her what caused him to do what he’d done, or he could sit in there until his trial, and that’s what she had told him.
When she didn’t get out of the car, just sat in th
e seat with her arms wrapped around herself, Ronnie grabbed the door and held it wider, then extended her hand to her. “C’mon honey, you’ve got to get out. We’ll work this out, I promise.”
Promise. That’s what Sean had done on the day they got married. He promised to be with her forever. Until death do us part. And that had come a lot sooner than either of them expected. Now she had to deal with the fallout of him putting himself in danger, courting death while trying to protect others, instead of thinking of her, of their family. Anger at her dead husband burned in her soul. He had left her with a mess. This was all his fault.
Carrie pushed up to her feet, and her knees wobbled. She took a deep breath, and firmed up her shoulders. She was alive and had to deal with this situation, protect her daughter. “I’m fine,” she said, trying to convince herself more than Ronnie, as she walked toward the front porch. She hesitated at the door and took another deep breath. Letting out slowly she twisted the knob and walked inside.
Pasting on a smile, she yelled, “Terri, we’re back. Where’s Izzy?”
Ronnie walked in behind her and shut the door. Terri came out of the hallway to the right carrying Jayden, sleepy and fresh-faced in his little pajamas. He rubbed his eyes and laid his head on her shoulder. Carrie’s heart squeezed in her chest. She wished her kids were still that age. If they were, she wouldn’t be dealing with the problems she was now.
“She went out to the barn to see the ponies,” Terri said. “I need to get Jayden in bed, I’ll be back in a second.
“Let’s sit on the sofa,” Ronnie said, wrapping her arm around Carrie’s shoulders to lead her over there.
Carrie sat down, and hugged herself, glad she had a few more minutes to nurse her guilt, her sorrow and grief, before she had to face her daughter. From Sean’s funeral, she knew how it was done. Hiding her feelings, burying them, so she could help her kids deal with their emotional trauma. They came first, which is how Sean should have thought before he took those dangerous assignments. He could have said no, but he had waded into them knee deep.