The Rancher Takes a Family

by Paula Altenburg

  “I feel like I dragged you all the way here for nothing,” she said to Mara when they were out of the city and on the highway to Grand. Night had fallen, but the car’s interior was lit up by the lights on the ramps as they passed them.

  “It wasn’t for nothing. You had to see for yourself that he’s going to be okay.”

  “That’s just it. I don’t think he is.” Lacey sucked back a few tears, refusing to give in to them. “I should have done more for him a long time ago. If I had, maybe he wouldn’t hate me so much now.” She dug in her purse for a tissue. “I’m sorry. I’m being silly. He’s a grown man and not a little boy, anymore.”

  “If he acts like a little boy, he should expect to be treated like one.” Mara passed a gray Lexus, then pocketed her car easily into the right-hand lane between a rusted pickup and a motorcycle. “Cherise is the one I feel sorry for.”

  “Who’s Cherise?”

  “The girl in the waiting room? When she figured out you were his sister and that I was with you, she couldn’t stop talking. She’s madly in love.”

  Lacey wished she’d paid more attention. “What did she say?”

  “That she and your brother are getting married and she doesn’t understand why the nurses won’t let her see him.”

  Mentally, Lacey kicked herself. This explained Clay’s bad attitude. Her brother was being the kind of guy-jerk he turned into whenever he believed his manhood was on the line. “I should have spoken to her. I could have helped sort things out.”

  “It never turns out well to make someone else’s problems your own. Whatever’s going on is between them.”

  Lacey looked at her friend with new eyes. This, from the kindest, friendliest, most chill person she knew? “That’s harsh, don’t you think?”

  “It’s reality. Men with emotional baggage are the worst when it comes to being there for you if you need them for a change. They’re takers, not givers.”

  Someone had hurt Mara. It was hard to imagine how that was possible. It might explain why she stayed in Grand, however. It was an easy place to sort the wheat from the chaff. If she couldn’t see a man’s shortcomings for herself, someone would be quick to enlighten her.

  Like she was doing now.

  “I’m not sure I agree with you,” Lacey said.

  “No?” Mara glanced over at her, one eyebrow raised. “Where’s Jake McGregor this evening?”

  It took two tries before Lacey’s tongue finally peeled away from the roof of her mouth so she could speak. “How did you know about Jake and me?”

  Mara settled deeper into her seat. She pressed her foot harder on the gas and switched lanes again, passing the rusty pickup this time.

  “How I know doesn’t matter. You’re a really good friend, Lacey,” she said. “I’m sure you’re a far better sister than you think, too. But when it comes to men who are takers, I speak from experience. Here’s my advice. You have a plane to catch in a few hours. Go to your conference and have a great time in Vegas. Let Clayton and Cherise, and anyone else who might or might not need your support, sort their problems out on their own.”

  Chapter Ten

  Jake dragged a weary and uncharacteristically fussy Lydia out of her car seat. It was late but at least the Walmart was open so he could pick up the few things the doctor on call had said she needed.

  She was cutting molars, which explained why she hadn’t been herself for a few days. It also meant Zack hadn’t given her food poisoning after all, which was what he’d been afraid of.

  Jake had been, too—although thankfully, he hadn’t said it.

  “Some kids get diarrhea along with their molars,” the doctor said. “Give her crackers and toast and keep her hydrated.” He showed Jake how to gently pinch the back of her hand to test her skin’s elasticity. “Sports drinks will give her electrolytes and a few extra calories. If she’s not better in two or three days, bring her back.”

  Jake had called the house from the truck to let the guys know the diagnosis. He’d called Lacey, too. Three times. She never picked up. It went straight to voicemail and he hadn’t bothered leaving a message. He wanted to talk to her, not a machine. He’d thought her flight left tomorrow morning, but maybe it had changed or he’d gotten the time wrong. Either was a possibility.

  Why she didn’t answer the phone wasn’t his business, no matter how much he’d like it to be.

  It was closing in on ten and the store was a ghost town. Lydia hung upside down, with her butt next to his ear and her head bouncing against his left shoulder blade, while she chewed on her fist. He held her legs with one hand and pushed the cart with the other. He had no idea how that could be comfortable, but if it made her happy, it was okay with him.

  He found the drink the doctor recommended. The brightly lit aisles echoed with the clacking of a rickety wheel as he searched for diapers. While he was here and the place was empty, he should pick up extra condoms.

  He looked left and right, saw no one, and directed the cart toward the family-planning section. He was checking out the options when he overheard a conversation taking place in the next aisle over. He paid no attention to it at first.

  Then, he caught Lacey’s name.

  “They’re both going to a conference in Las Vegas this week. I had to fill out Neil’s registration for him last Monday and book his plane ticket. The poor boy’s been so busy trying to find an apartment for the fall he forgot all about it, but I couldn’t let that happen. This is the perfect chance for him and Lacey to work out whatever’s gone wrong between them.”

  That was Sue Anne Nylund, the school secretary, and now, Jake was all ears.

  “Maybe what’s gone wrong is that some other man spent the night at her place. I saw him leave in the wee hours of the morning.”

  The second voice belonged to Eleanor Fitzpatrick. Jake hadn’t known she lived close to Lacey. If he had, he would have parked his truck in a different neighborhood entirely and cut through backyards to get to her house.

  “It could have been Neil.”

  Sue Anne sounded too hopeful about that for Jake’s liking.

  “Not unless Neil’s grown six inches taller and gained thirty pounds of solid muscle.”

  The voices were coming closer and here Jake was, eavesdropping, with a package of ribbed condoms in his hand and a fidgety baby dangling from his shoulder. He shoved the condoms back on the shelf and grabbed the next product within reach.

  Hemorrhoid cream.

  Before he could put that back too, the women rounded the end of the aisle and he froze.

  Mrs. Nylund pattered toward him. Her steel-gray hair hugged her head like a medieval battle helmet. “Jake McGregor. What on earth are you doing out with a baby at this hour of the night?”

  Jake called on the good manners his mother had taught him. He replaced the cream on the shelf and tipped his hat to the women, making sure he maintained a solid grip on his niece. “Good evening, Mrs. Nylund. Mrs. Fitzpatrick.”

  A loud gurgle erupted from inside his niece’s diaper. A familiar smell wafted into the air. Lydia started to scream with a tongue-vibrating cry that announced to the world she was dying, because the explosions she’d been having all day had burned her poor little tush raw.

  Heat crept up Jake’s neck. He hoped it was from embarrassment and not another one of her leaks. He eased her off his shoulder and into his arms and did his best to comfort her by bouncing her up and down, but until she was in a clean diaper with some cream on her butt to take the sting out, she wasn’t stopping.

  “She’s cutting molars,” he said.

  The women nodded in sympathy and complete understanding.

  Mrs. Fitzpatrick straightened the hem of her blouse over well-padded hips and her stretchy white slacks, her movements brisk and efficient. “Do you have a diaper bag with you?”

  “It’s in the truck.”

  “Go get it,” she said. She plucked Lydia from his arms. “We’ll take care of the baby.”

  The next thing he knew h
e was in the parking lot by himself, digging behind the seat for the diaper bag and the sample of cream he’d been given, wondering what the hell had just happened.

  He jogged back inside. The women took the diaper bag from him, his incompetence a given as far as they were concerned, and disappeared into the ladies’ room with Lydia, still snuffling and squalling. He hovered outside the door, feeling as if he should be doing something, but not knowing what. It wasn’t as if he could charge in there after them.

  While he waited, he got to thinking about Lacey and Neil heading to Vegas together. He wasn’t worried about it. Not really. Not after the night they’d had together.

  Speaking of which…

  “If you’re okay in there, I’m going to head to the checkout,” he called through the door.

  “We’ll be a few more minutes, dear. Go right ahead,” Mrs. Nylund called back. He could hear Lydia doing her mum, mum, mum stutter that meant she wasn’t happy, but had reconciled herself to her fate.

  He raced for the cart he’d abandoned, grabbed two packs of condoms—because it wasn’t as if he was coming back here again any time soon—and made a beeline for the checkout. The kid manning the cash didn’t make eye contact while ringing them through, so all was good.

  Everything was bagged and back in the cart when the women emerged from the ladies’ room. Lydia had her thumb in her mouth and was chewing on it, but her crying had stopped. She seemed content enough. Mrs. Nylund’s carried her this time.

  “She’s a beautiful little girl,” Mrs. Fitzpatrick said, reaching over and stroking her hair. “I remember when your sister Elizabeth was the same age. Children give us a reason to carry on, Jake. You need to think about giving these little ones a mother again. Don’t spend all of your time hiding out on that ranch. You’ll never find a woman that way.”

  “Leave him be, Eleanor,” Mrs. Nylund said. “Ian McKillop saw him with a woman just last Sunday.”

  Good old Ian. He really knew how to exercise some discretion.

  Lydia’s eyes drooped with exhaustion. She reached for Jake, creating a diversion before the women could begin the interrogation he could see coming like a runaway train.

  “Mum, mum, mum,” she said, which was a way better response than the one he wished he could make.

  “I’d better get her home and to bed.”

  He pried her from Mrs. Nylund’s unwilling arms, retrieved the diaper bag from Mrs. Fitzpatrick, and thanked them both for their help, even though really, he could have handled the situation himself. He’d done so all day. And as for the advice?

  He’d been getting plenty more of that than he needed, too.

  He got Lydia into her car seat, stowed the purchases away, and was backing out of the parking space when something else hit him.

  Not once had it occurred to either woman that he might be the man Mrs. Fitzpatrick had seen leaving Lacey’s house in the “wee hours of the morning.”

  *

  Lacey wasn’t a huge fan of Las Vegas and the restaurant chosen by the group of teachers she was with didn’t improve her opinion. The noise level from the Strip on the other side of a partial wall fought with the speakers blaring from behind the fake tree next to their table. Who air conditioned a patio?

  What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas might have been true a few decades ago, but the internet and the proliferation of smartphones made it a whole lot less likely today. The two twenty-something teachers from Canada might want to think about that.

  Five college kids—what else could they be?—wearing beer hats on their heads and long plastic straws in their mouths staggered in the direction of their table.

  “Isn’t this city amazing?” Neil shouted in her ear. “I wonder if they have any teaching positions opening up?”

  The age difference between them had never been more apparent, because no, she didn’t think it was amazing. She’d never give up Grand, or Marion Street Grand Elementary, for this.

  She hadn’t known Neil would be at the conference. She didn’t know how she’d ended up seated next to him either, but it was ridiculous to feel as if she were doing something wrong. They were hardly alone and they were all professionals.

  Well, most of them were. The two Canadians engaging the frat boys in conversation might prove to be outliers. Tomorrow night, she was ordering her dinner in.

  Her phone rang. She felt the vibration since it was impossible to hear anything other than Celine Dion singing about her heart going on. A quick check of the number said it was Jake, not the hospital in Billings. Her heart sang along with Celine’s. About time, Mr. McGregor.

  She let it go to voicemail, even though it was hard, because this wasn’t the best place to talk. She’d return his call in private.

  Neil slung an arm along the back of the bench seat they shared.

  “Let me guess—the former boyfriend?” he asked, using his fingers as air quotes. He’d had a few drinks with his burger and while he wasn’t a sloppy drunk, it did unclog his filters.

  Yet another sign they weren’t meant to be.

  Lacey snapped the latch on her purse shut and treated the question as none of his business. They’d gone out a few times. He didn’t own a piece of her life.

  And yet, a teeny part of her acknowledged a smidgeon of guilt. If Jake hadn’t happened back in the picture, she might have been tempted to continue seeing Neil until they both became bored.

  “I’m going to head back to my room,” she announced to the table.

  “I’ll walk back with you,” Neil said.

  What could she say?

  The Strip was crowded. People drifted in and out of the casinos. A cab blew its horn at a young Asian girl dashing across the street against the lights. They walked side by side, not speaking at first, but she could tell he had something to say so she waited for it.

  Neil thrust his hands in his shorts pockets.

  “Are you really willing to take on Jake McGregor and three kids?” he finally asked. He slid her a thin, sideways smile. “Grand is a small place. People talk. It seems your neighbor saw a man leaving your house in the middle of the night and could tell by his build that it wasn’t me. She told Sue Anne about it, and Sue Anne felt an obligation to keep me in the loop. And no,” he added. “I didn’t tell her who it was, because I don’t really know that for a fact, now do I?”

  Lacey kept quiet. She wasn’t about to defend herself, but she didn’t want to hurt him, either. On the other hand, she was growing more annoyed with him by the second.

  “So what is it about him that you prefer?” Neil asked. He held up a hand. “Don’t answer that. Let me figure it out on my own. I’m going to guess that you don’t have sisterly feelings for him.”

  Not even a little bit.

  The fountains shot to life in front of the Bellagio, belting out “Fly Me to the Moon” by Sinatra. They slowed to watch, skirting the edge of the crowd pressed up against the rail. The noise level and body count made private conversation impossible. Lacey snapped a few pictures with her phone.

  Once the show was over, they moved on with the throng. They reached their hotel and wound their way through the slot machines in search of the elevator Lacey had yet to find on her own. The signs supposedly pointing to it were useless.

  Luckily, Neil had a better sense of direction. The doors slid closed on the lights and the noise from the hotel casino, providing peace and quiet at last. The silent ride to their rooms, however, was awkward at best.

  The elevator stopped at Neil’s floor first.

  He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Good luck with your rancher and his new family,” he said. “You’re both going to need it.”

  The fuse on Lacey’s temper ignited. “Be as unkind about me as you like but leave Jake and his children out of it.”

  As soon as she spoke, the full force of her words hit her. Jake had three children. She’d never really framed it that way before. In her head, they’d always been his sister’s—but they weren’t, anymore.

 
; They were his.

  “I’m not trying to be unkind about anyone. I’m offering you my opinion, although granted, it’s unsolicited, so take it for what it’s worth.” Neil braced the door open with the flat of one hand. “You’re a fixer, Lacey. It’s part of your nature. You like to be needed. But I don’t believe Jake McGregor realizes he needs fixing. Or that he needs anyone, either.”

  First Mara, now Neil. The world should mind its own business.

  “Maybe he doesn’t,” she said.

  “I’m pretty sure we both know that’s not true.” Brown eyes studied her with a fleck of disappointment buried in them. “I’ve always wanted to be a teacher. I work with kids all day and I love them. I like to think I’m good at what I do. But if someone handed me three children as a package deal and said, ‘Here. They’re yours,’ I think I’d have a really hard time adjusting. And I’d be a lot better prepared for it than your rancher. The biggest difference between him and me is that I can admit it.”

  Neil had sized Jake up surprisingly well from the little he’d seen of him. Jake would never admit he’d taken on more than he could handle.

  But so far, from what she’d seen, he was handling things with the children just fine.

  Neil kept on going. “A ranch is a busy place. Have you given any thought to what your life will be like if the two of you end up together? How are you going to juggle three kids and one or two babies of your own? What about teaching? Are you willing to give up your career to raise someone else’s children? What do you really want?”

  “Right now, I want to go to my room.”

  The elevator door tried to close, then bounced back on its track. Neil released it and stepped into the hall.

  “See you tomorrow,” he said, with a little wave of his hand before turning away.

  The door slid shut. The elevator began moving again.

  Lacey got off on her floor and made her way to her room. Inside, she kicked off her flip-flops and tossed her purse in a chair. The curtains were open. She drew them partly shut.