He read sadness and grief on his friend’s face when he glanced at him. It filled him with regret and shame. “I’m fine, Tate. Really.”
“I’m glad to hear that because one of our neighbors could use some help and I thought you’d like to volunteer.” Tate squeezed his shoulder and gave him an encouraging grin before digging into an insulated cooler attached to the back of the four-wheeler.
“What kind of help?” Cort accepted the bottle of water Tate held out to him and took a long drink.
“Ranch hand. It’s not a big spread, but they run cattle and have a few head of horses, grow some wheat and hay. They have the last cutting in already, but need a hand to help get them through the winter. A couple of college kids help during the summer, but they went back to school last week. Replacements have been hard to find and they need someone right away.” Tate kept his gaze down, studying the toe of his boot. “I realize you don’t want to be here, but I thought it might be easier on you being around a stranger. K.C. could really use the help.”
“Casey?” The name wasn’t familiar to Cort. He’d met several of the neighboring ranchers over the years, remembered a few of them from his childhood, but Casey wasn’t a name he recalled.
“K.C. Peters of the Hanging P Ranch.” Tate climbed back on the four-wheeler. “You remember Ed Peters, don’t you? He and his son, Dean, died in a car wreck two years ago.”
Cort considered Tate’s request as he fished a cinnamon toothpick from his pocket and stuck it between his lips.
Mad at his friends for their involvement in his parents’ plot against him, he agreed some time away from them might be a good idea.
He hadn’t yet worked up the nerve to leave altogether, but liked the idea of being nearby. Somewhere people didn’t stare at him with a mixture of pity and disappointment on a daily basis.
The one thing he had enjoyed about being on the Morgan Ranch was Gideon. The little boy made him laugh. If he worked on a neighboring property, he could still see him mornings and evenings when he came back to the ranch.
“When do you want me to go?” Cort finally asked, releasing a deep sigh.
“You can start tomorrow. I’ll tell K.C. to expect you in the morning. You might want to… um, well, you should...” Tate stammered.
“I’ll stay home this evening, if that’s what you’re trying to say,” Cort grumbled, feeling like a grounded teenager. He hated that Tate treated him like a stupid kid and himself for acting that way.
“Good.” Tate playfully slugged his arm and started the four-wheeler. “Maybe you can even fix whatever it is you’ve got going on out there.” He waved his hand toward the hayfield.
“Maybe.” Cort climbed on the tractor and started back to work. It took him the rest of the day to finish baling.
Determined to set things right with Tate, he skipped lunch and continued working until every bit of hay in the field sat in big ton bales. He drove the tractor to the next field and started working on the back swath until one of Tate’s hands arrived to take him to the house.
“Boss said you’d be starving by now.”
“Almost. I appreciate the ride,” Cort said as the pickup stopped in front of the ranch house.
“No problem.” The man waved, driving the pickup past the barn to the bunkhouse where his dinner awaited him.
Cort took off his hay-covered ball cap and T-shirt, removed his boots and socks, and brushed off his jeans before entering the mudroom. He would have left his dirty jeans there as well, but Kenzie wouldn’t appreciate him streaking through the house in his briefs. He washed his hands at the deep sink and went into the kitchen.
“Hey, Cort. Hope you’re hungry. We’ve got steaks on the grill for dinner and baked potatoes.” Kenzie smiled at him as he bent over and ruffled Gideon’s hair. The toddler sat in his highchair gnawing on a piece of watermelon.
“Tort?” Gideon held the melon out to him.
Cort grinned and took a bite before pushing Gideon’s little hand back toward his mouth. “You finish it up, little man.”
Gideon kicked his feet and nodded his head as he sucked on the juicy piece of fruit.
“I’m gonna take a shower before dinner, if that’s okay.” Cort watched Kenzie toss a green salad with his favorite dressing. Tall with gleaming dark hair and a lovely smile, it was hard to blame Tate for leaving behind his rodeo career to be with her on the ranch.
“Sure. If you bring down your dirty clothes, I’ll throw everything in the washer so you’re ready to go tomorrow.”
“I’m staying over there?” Cort asked.
Tate hadn’t gone into the particulars, but he didn’t realize they expected him to live at the Hanging P Ranch.
“I assumed Tate told you.” Kenzie slid a pan of rolls into the oven and stirred something in a saucepan on top of the stove.
“He said they needed some help, not that I’d be living over there. What else did Tate leave out?” Cort held onto his patience with a tenuous grasp as he waited for Kenzie to impart what she knew.
“K.C. can’t afford to pay much, so room and board is part of the bargain. Tate didn’t think you’d mind. It’s not what you want to do, but you’d be helping out someone who could use a hand right now.” Kenzie looked at him with a pleading gaze. “K.C. has truly struggled to keep the ranch going since Ed and Dean died. Things seem to go from bad to worse over there.”
Cort nodded his head then hurried to his room, wondering what else Tate failed to tell him about the neighbor.
He showered, mulling over the idea of living on a neighboring ranch. Anticipation of being somewhere new mingled with disappointment that Tate and Kenzie obviously wanted him to leave, just like his parents.
After gathering his dirty clothes, he took them to the mudroom, loaded the washer with his shirts and jeans then turned it on. He helped Kenzie set the table while Tate grilled the steaks.
Gideon’s antics kept them entertained as they ate. Cort was grateful the conversation stayed neutral. While Tate helped Kenzie with the dishes, he put another load of his clothes into the washer.
He returned to the kitchen in time to watch Gideon free himself from his highchair. On his way down, he banged his chin on the footrest. The little boy stared at his chair then hauled off and kicked the leg before turning to Cort.
With a lip puckered into a pout, he held up his arms. “Tort! Owie!”
Cort picked up the little one and kissed his chin.
“Is that better?” he asked and Gideon nodded.
“Bad chair.” Gideon pointed to the highchair.
“Maybe you should have waited for your mama to get you down,” Cort suggested.
Gideon shook his head, stabbing a chubby finger into his chest. “Do self.”
“Well, aren’t you mister independent?” Cort tried not to laugh. Tate rolled his eyes and Kenzie sighed.
“Yep.” Gideon’s head bobbed up and down in agreement. The toddler squirmed in Cort’s arms, making it clear he wanted loose.
Cort set him on his feet.
“Play wif Gid?”
“Sure, let’s go play.” Cort followed Gideon to a sunny corner in the family room where Kenzie kept his toy box. He sat on the floor and played with the little boy until the child’s eyes grew droopy.
While Cort played with Gideon, his hosts took advantage of the opportunity of a few moments of free time. Tate hurried through a stack of paperwork in his office while Kenzie recorded a training video for the direct sales company she worked for at home.
Mindful they wouldn’t leave Gideon in his care if they didn’t trust him, it made him want to do better, be better, than he had since his accident.
A noise at the doorway drew his attention. He glanced up and met Kenzie’s gaze. She smiled at him and stepped into the room. “Looks like he’s about out of steam.”
“Yep.” Cort picked up Gideon and handed him to his mother. The little boy rubbed his eyes and rested his head against her shoulder.
“After a bath, he
’ll be ready for bed. Thanks for wearing him out.” Kenzie offered him an approving smile before walking up the stairs with the toddler.
Cort returned to his laundry and tossed the last load in the dryer while he folded the clothes already dry.
When the load finished, he borrowed one of Kenzie’s baskets to carry everything upstairs so he could pack.
Restless, with a craving to drive into town to one of the bars, he wandered back downstairs and challenged Tate and Kenzie to a card game.
The year the couple dated, they’d played all sorts of card games out on the road. At that time, Kenzie traveled extensively with the direct sales company, holding training meetings all over the country. Whenever possible, she took assignments that put her in the same city as Tate while he was on the rodeo circuit.
An hour later, Kenzie jumped to her feet and did a victory dance around the table after winning the last hand.
“Let’s end on that high note,” she said, dishing bowls of ice cream and adding cookies for garnish. “Why don’t we sit on the porch? There’s a cool breeze.”
The three of them sat on the back porch and watched the sun sink into the horizon, turning the sky into a kaleidoscope of pink, purple, and orange tones.
“We really appreciate you going over to help at the Hanging P. I’d send one of my hands, but I think you’re the best man for this job,” Tate said as they stared into the twilight. The sounds of crickets chirping provided the evening serenade while the sweet smell of hay and summertime drifted around them on the breeze.
Cort breathed deeply of the clean, country air and felt the bands of tension that had been squeezing him with an ever-tightening hold the last few months release.
Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to stay in the area, at least for a while.
“What does Casey expect me to do?” A capable farm or ranch hand, Cort much preferred working with cattle to farm work.
“Mostly work with the cattle and once the weather turns cold, take care of the feeding. You’ll be the primary help around the place.” Tate used the toe of his boot to set the porch swing where he and Kenzie sat into motion, lazily moving it back and forth.
“Sounds like a big responsibility.” Cort wondered if he was up for the job. He couldn’t spend his nights out drinking if he planned to work hard during the day. Maybe Tate thought the job would force him to get his head back on straight.
“It is, but you’ll do great.” Tate subtly nudged Kenzie.
“Yeah, Cort. You’re definitely what, or should I say whom, K.C. needs.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m heading in to bed so I’ll be well rested in the morning.” Cort got to his feet and started inside, but turned back to study his friends.
Despite his current turmoil, they’d both been good to him and he appreciated their care and concern. “Thanks for letting me stay here the past few weeks. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome anytime.” Kenzie held out a hand to him. He gave it a squeeze before opening the screen door and going inside the house.
Tate waited until they heard Cort’s steps fade away before he spoke.
“Do you think we should have told him?” he asked his wife, nuzzling her neck in the shimmering darkness.
“Nope. He’ll figure it out soon enough tomorrow.” Kenzie giggled as she leaned against Tate’s solid chest and released a contented sigh.
Chapter Three
The next morning Cort followed his nose to the kitchen, inhaling the rich scent of coffee mingling with the aroma of frying ham and what he hoped were pancakes.
He sniffed appreciatively as he stepped into the room and watched Kenzie flip a pancake out of a skillet, adding it to a growing pile on a platter.
“Mornin’.” He’d slept better last night than he had for weeks. Instead of waking up queasy with a headache, he felt hungry and clear-headed for a change. “Breakfast smells good.”
“Glad you think so.” Kenzie smiled, pouring him a cup of coffee and sliding it across the counter. “I couldn’t send you off without a filling breakfast, could I?”
“No, ma’am.” He took a deep drink of the coffee before setting juice glasses on the table.
Tate walked into the kitchen, pleased Cort appeared ready to take on the day. “Hey, man, didn’t know you did mornings,” he teased as he washed his hands at the sink then kissed Kenzie’s cheek.
“On rare occasions, I do. You’d have to lock me in my room to make me miss Kenzie’s pancakes.” Cort took the platter of ham Kenzie set on the counter and carried it to the table. Tate picked up the butter and a pitcher of warm maple syrup, setting them on the table.
“I’m happy to bribe you with my cooking anytime.” Kenzie grinned as she joined the men at the table. Tate offered thanks for their meal and they dug into the food.
Kenzie managed to take a bite or two before the sound of Gideon chattering in his room echoed from the baby monitor on the counter. She set down her fork and raised her gaze toward the ceiling.
“Gid is never going to let us finish a meal without interrupting,” Tate said, starting to stand.
“I’ll get him. You two eat.” Kenzie rose from her seat and hurried up the stairs. It didn’t take long for her to return with Gideon. He was a happy boy most of the time, but loved the mornings most. He reached out to his father when Kenzie rounded the table. Tate took his son and kissed his cheek, tickling his tummy.
The little boy’s belly laugh made them all smile. Kenzie poured a sippy cup full of milk and cut a pancake into bite-sized pieces, placing them on Gideon’s tray as Tate set the baby in the highchair. “Eat up, Gid. Mama made a good breakfast this morning.”
“Eat! Eat, Tort! Mama yum yums.” Gideon waved a piece of pancake at Cort.
“I’m eating, Gid. Your mama made yummy pancakes, didn’t she?” Cort watched as Gideon took a syrupy piece of pancake and shoved it into his mouth.
“Pannapake! Mama pannapake yum yum.” Gideon banged his feet against the edge of his highchair. He chattered in his own language while he continued eating, enjoying the meal every bit as much as the adults.
When he finished, Kenzie washed off his sticky hands and face then set him on his feet. He ran over to Cort and climbed onto his lap while he and Tate drank their coffee.
“What time do you think I should go meet my new boss?” Cort asked, smiling at Gideon. The toddler had a way of refusing to be ignored, especially when he placed himself front and center, demanding attention.
Gid patted Cort’s palm with his small hand and squeezed his fingers. The tiny, little fingers resting against his own made something tug at Cort’s heart. Something he hadn’t felt in quite a while.
Determined to ignore the boy’s softening touch on his hardened attitude, he shoved the feeling aside, turning his attention back to Tate.
“After I help you load your stuff and the horses, you should probably head over to the Hanging P.” Tate drank the last of his coffee and set his mug on the table. “Do you want me to go with you?”
“No. I’ll go alone, if you’re sure I’m expected.” Cort handed Gideon to Kenzie so he could get to his feet.
“K.C. knows you’re coming today. Just go to the house when you get there.” Tate carried dirty plates to the sink while Kenzie tried to interest Gideon in some toys she kept near the table. She could work in the kitchen and keep an eye on him that way. He grabbed a stuffed pony and pushed it across the floor.
“You know how to find the ranch, right?” Kenzie asked as she started loading the dishwasher.
“Yeah. I vaguely remember where it’s located. Tate gave me the address as well as his great ‘turn north at the east corner of so-and-so’s fence line’ directions. How could I miss it?”
“No offense, cowboy, but those directions aren’t terribly helpful.” Kenzie looked pointedly at her husband. “Once he gave me directions like that and I spent more than an hour completely lost before I gave up and used the GPS on my phone.”
Cor
t laughed then hurried upstairs to his room. He returned carrying his bags and took them out to his truck. After hooking the horse trailer to the pickup, Tate helped him load his horses and tack.
“If things don’t work out, Cort, you can come back here anytime. You’re always, always welcome.” Tate placed a warm hand on Cort’s thick shoulder.
“I know, man, and I appreciate it.” Grateful to have the safety net his friends offered, he wouldn’t come back in defeat if he couldn’t help their neighbor. If things went sour at the Hanging P, he’d hit the open road and see where it took him.
“Just promise you won’t do something crazy like take off in the middle of the night and not say goodbye.” Tate knew his friend all too well.
“I promise I’ll at least say goodbye.” Cort ignored the frown Tate turned his direction as they walked inside.
“Tort! Go bye-bye? Go wif Tort?”
“No, little man, you need to stay here and help your mama.” He picked up Gideon and tossed him in the air. The toddler gave him a tight hug, making a lump lodge in Cort’s throat before he set the little boy down. Gideon hurried to his father and wrapped an arm around Tate’s leg, staring up at Cort as he hugged Kenzie and thanked her for her hospitality.
“Come back anytime, Cort. I don’t want you to be a stranger, and neither does Gid.” Kenzie kissed his cheek before stepping away from him. She reached over the counter, picked up a tin, and handed it to him. “A few cookies to tide you over. Maybe you can spend Sunday afternoon with us and stay for dinner.”
“Maybe I will. Thanks, Kenz. I appreciate it.” He smiled as he took the cookies and opened the back door. He tipped his hat and walked down the back steps. At least Kenzie and Tate made it clear he was welcome to return.
That was more than he could say for his parents and sister. Celia had left numerous voice mails and sent him a dozen text messages that he’d promptly deleted. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to her and wouldn’t be for a good long while.
He waved as he drove past the house on his way down the driveway. A glance at the directions Tate scribbled left him tossing the paper on the seat and tapping the address into his GPS. In less than fifteen minutes, he turned off the road onto a bumpy driveway.
Wrestlin' Christmas: (Sweet Western Holiday Romance) (Rodeo Romance Book 2) Page 3