The Rancher Takes a Family

by Paula Altenburg

  Then, peering at the bright, flashing lights of the city through the chink where the curtains didn’t quite meet, she tried to piece her scrambled thoughts together. She should have told Neil he was wrong and maybe to mind his own business, but all he’d done was said a few things she hadn’t wanted to hear and raised a few questions she wasn’t ready to answer.

  What did she want from Jake in the long term?

  She wanted a child of her own. She wanted a baby. Maybe more than one, and she wasn’t getting any younger. That didn’t mean she couldn’t love Mac, Finn, and Lydia, as well. But would Jake even want to have more children? Or what if he did, but wanted to wait a few years to have more and she didn’t?

  She was getting ahead of herself. She could thank Neil for that. Right now, she and Jake could barely snatch a few hours in a row to get to know each other again, let alone plan any kind of future together.

  Okay, she wanted more from him than he could give. There was no harm in admitting it as long as she accepted that her expectations weren’t going to be met any time soon.

  She flopped on the bed with her phone in her hand and called him.

  “Hey,” he said, picking up on the third ring.

  She heard water running in the background, a lot of splashing, and then a little voice saying, uh-oh.

  “Can I call you right back? It’s bath time. Or, as Zack likes to call it, monsoon season.”

  He sounded tired, half-apologetic, distracted, and more than a little amused by whatever was going on. Like he was enjoying himself.

  This was how Jake was dealing with his own loss. He focused on the children.

  She’d love to be there with them. To be part of the ruckus she could hear in the background. Her childhood had been—rigid. Sterile. Lacking in any real adult involvement. That was why she loved teaching, and coaching soccer, so much. She might have to be the adult, but she got to play, too.

  “Of course.”

  She called the hospital in Billings to check on Clayton while she waited and was told they’d been asked not to give out information. She dropped the phone on the bed beside her and stared at the stippled ceiling. She’d decided not to call her mother. Clayton wasn’t going to cooperate and it would only upset her. Hopefully Cherise could get through to her brother in a way his family had failed him.

  Lacey was on the sofa, reviewing her notes from the day and considering getting ready for bed, when Jake finally called back.

  “Kids are in bed. At last. Sorry I couldn’t reach you on Sunday,” he added, “but Lydia’s been sick and we had to make a trip to the doctor.”

  “Is she okay?” Lacey asked, immediately concerned.

  He filled her in on the teething, the unpleasant side effects, and then had her laughing with his deadpan description of Zack and his weak stomach.

  “Poor baby,” she said.

  Jake’s response was predictably dry. “Are you referring to Lydia or Zack?”

  She smiled into the phone. “Both.”

  “I did try to call you on Sunday, though,” he said, turning the conversation back to its beginning. “But I didn’t bother leaving a voicemail. You were up late the night before and I figured you might have gone to bed early, and I’d rather catch you when you aren’t too tired to talk.”

  He was hinting around, wondering why she hadn’t answered her phone, meaning he must have called earlier in the evening than he was letting on. She didn’t bring up her run to Billings, though. He had enough to worry about without her dumping her problems with Clayton on him.

  She pushed the papers aside and rested her bare feet on the low coffee table in front of the sofa. “How thoughtful of you, considering you were the reason I didn’t get any sleep.”

  “I don’t recall getting much sleep either, Miss Anderson, but you don’t hear me complaining about it.”

  “Oh, I’m not complaining,” she assured him. “I fully expect a repeat performance when I get home.”

  “About that,” he said.

  She studied her toes. “Why do I get the feeling I’m about to hear something I won’t like?”

  “I bumped into Eleanor Fitzpatrick and Sue Anne Nylund at Walmart while Lydia and I were shopping for diapers after her trip to the doctor.”

  “Let me guess—Mrs. Fitzpatrick saw you leave in the middle of the night.” And she told Sue Anne, who’d wasted no time in going to Neil.

  Grand really was small.

  “She didn’t know it was me—only that it wasn’t Neil Pierce. They were trying to figure out who it was.”

  He sounded annoyed. She wasn’t sure over which part, exactly, since he hadn’t been identified and she was the one who came off looking bad in their eyes, but figured it might be best not to go there. “Does this mean you won’t be coming over to my house, anymore?”

  “Hell, no,” he said, with enough fervor that her uneasiness abated. “It means I’m going to have to jump fences in the dark to get there. How many dogs do you have in your neighborhood?”

  So that was what bugged him—the sneaking around.

  “I guess you’ll find out, won’t you?” She let a few heartbeats go by before suggesting an alternative. “Or, we could hook up in a motel somewhere out of town.”

  “We are not hooking up in motels.”

  He was so definite about it. She could picture the dark and dour scowl on his face and wanted to laugh. This was the same man who’d had sex with her up against the wall next to her front door and yet a motel was out of the question. Getting him into a motel room with her might become her new mission in life.

  “I’ll pay for it,” she said, simply to provoke a reaction. Not once when they were dating had he allowed her to spend money.

  “When hell freezes over,” he growled. “No motels, either.”

  “You’ve never taken a girl to a motel, before?”

  They were circling dangerously close to kiss-and-tell waters. It wouldn’t surprise her if he refused to answer that one.

  And yet, he did. Promptly.

  “Not one that mattered,” he said.

  She melted inside. She was stuck at a conference, hundreds of miles away, when she wanted so badly to be with him right now. “I’ll be home Friday. I think the Fergusons are the only neighbors with a dog, and it’s old. You can outrun it.”

  “As much as I’d like to, I won’t be jumping any fences this weekend. I’m working the night shift for the next ten days. One of the guys who monitor the robotics system in the milking parlor is out of town for his sister’s wedding and Luke had to go to Seattle for a few days. Something to do with his job—or so he says. That leaves Zack holding down the fort with the kids and the house, and I think we both know how well that’s going to turn out.”

  She got the picture. More importantly, however, she was getting a glimpse of what their relationship would be like for the next year—evading gossip, seeing each other when they could both find a free moment, and really, not discussing anything of any importance.

  Neil was wrong about one thing. Jake had his life under control. But his life involved the ranch and the children, with very little room left over for her.

  Well, she didn’t take up much space. She had a life of her own to focus on.

  “How’s the conference?” he asked, driving her point home.

  “Informative.”

  “Lots of teachers there?”

  “It’s a conference for teachers,” she reminded him.

  “Anyone you know?”

  “A few people.” Her head was beginning to ache and she had an early morning session coming up. “I should let you go.”

  “You okay?”

  His concern stretched out across the miles to enfold her, wrapping her in the memory of the way he looked at her with his thick, black-lashed green eyes and how it felt when he touched her. He’d chosen fishing—an activity he liked—but then gone out of his way to make it fun for her, too. She liked how at home he’d made himself in her kitchen—even more so, in he
r bed.

  Her headache began to clear. She wasn’t listening to Neil, or Mara, or anyone else. She’d allowed them to plant seeds of doubt, but Jake was the one she had to believe in. She’d dived in with her eyes open. She’d known how things between them would be before becoming involved with him again.

  And as far as their little competition over who could show whom the best time, by her count, he was ahead. She couldn’t have that. He might be “it” at the moment, but she’d turn that around. He’d said he wanted their being together to be about them, meaning they’d have to make every rare moment count.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “I’ll see you the weekend after next.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Jake made sure that he was able to take Mac to his soccer game on the Saturday he and Lacey were supposed to spend the evening together.

  Because, as it turned out, he had to cancel, and he’d rather do it in person. The drought had ended this past week, and thanks to a few good, hard rains, the grass had made a strong comeback. He had to get a cut in while it was horse grade. They required a higher quality than cattle and the prices for it had soared. He couldn’t afford not to run the haybines twenty-four seven until it was in.

  Someone, however, had to bring Mac to his game, and he’d volunteered. Zack and Luke were in the fields. He’d brought Lydia along to the game, while Luke had taken Finn on the tractor with him. The cab was enclosed and air-conditioned, perfectly safe, and Finn had developed an obsession with farm equipment that Jake was happy to indulge.

  He picked a spot on the grass under the cottonwoods and unfolded his lawn chair. He spread a blanket for Lydia to play on, smeared her with sunscreen, and got her a cookie and juice pack from the cooler he’d brought. Then his face overheated because he realized a group of the mothers were staring at him with amused, indulgent expressions that said, Look at Jake McGregor, trying his best to be a good parent.

  Damn it, he was.

  He sagged into the chair, rested his boots on the blanket next to his niece, and settled his hat lower to partly cover his face, hoping the signal he sent was get lost, but the effort was wasted. He couldn’t say how it happened, but within minutes, three more toddlers were on the blanket with Lyds and their mothers had set up camp next to him. They were hardly strangers. They were all within a few years of his age and they’d grown up together in Grand. But how had he ended up the center of their attention? Where were the dads?

  Lacey had noticed him and his circle of friends. Rather than jealousy, however, her expression radiated exactly the same message as theirs. She thought his attempt at parenting was cute.

  He might be trying his best at parenting, but this was where he drew the line. He’d rather she think he was hot. He itched to get his hands on her again. When he did, there’d likely be a repeat of what had happened at her front door the last time because the second they were alone, he wasn’t waiting.

  He met her eyes across the soccer field and pictured her naked. He let a slight grin—the barest upturn of his mouth—transmit the image between them. A hint of pink warmed the light tan on her cheeks. Her lashes swept downward, and flustered, she shifted her attention to one of her players who had a question for her.

  How was that for a PG-rated PDA, Miss Anderson?

  But it turned out Jake wasn’t quite as clever as he thought.

  “Yowza,” one of the mothers said. “If my husband looked at me that way, I’d be pregnant again.”

  “Why, Jake McGregor,” another chimed in. “You sly dog. I thought you and Lacey called it quits back in high school. Don’t tell me you two are seeing each other again.”

  If not for Mac and the fragile friendships he’d begun to form with his teammates, and Lacey’s concern for her job, Jake might not care as much if anyone knew he and Lacey were seeing each other. But with Weldon Scott nosing around in his financial affairs, and everyone so curious to see how well he did with the kids, she was the one piece of his life he could still keep to himself and he was protective of it.

  And of her, too. She had to teach in this town and she wasn’t comfortable with the situation.

  He leaned out of his sagging lawn chair to pry a lump of some unidentifiable substance Lydia had picked up from her clenched hand before she could put it in her mouth. One bout of diaper disasters a month was all he could handle.

  “Between the ranch and the kids, when do you suppose I’d have time for women?” he asked.

  “They aren’t little forever.” The woman’s sympathy was plain. “Once they get used to Grand, you’ll have more freedom.”

  The others all nodded. He’d like to say that freedom and women were the last things on his mind, and what was important was the well-being of Mac, Finn, and Lydia, but he’d be lying. Lacey was important to him too, and he didn’t see nearly enough of her to make him happy.

  “Besides,” she continued, “Mac’s already making friends and Finn seems to enjoy dance lessons. He’s so sweet, with those big eyes. My daughter Alyssa talks about him all the time. Why don’t you bring him over for a playdate sometime soon? I’ll call you at the first of the week and we can arrange a time.”

  Jake muttered something that might have been an agreement. He wasn’t sure. He hadn’t gotten past the shock of discovering Luke had gone behind his back and enrolled Finn in dance lessons. What the hell was going on with Luke these days, anyway?

  Jake would find out when Luke got home.

  The start of the game brought an end to his new support group’s eye-opening pep talk. Between keeping one eye on Lydia and the other on Mac, and trying to keep both eyes off Lacey, not to mention setting aside his irritation with Luke, the next few hours flew by.

  Grand beat the kids from Ulmer by two goals. Two of the five scored were Mac’s. The boy was fast.

  He jogged over to Jake after the two teams shook hands, his face so alive that a rush of relief overwhelmed the anxiety Jake hadn’t known he still harbored for him. Instinct warned that what he said next would be crucial. Mac was coming out of a dark place.

  He took a gamble and hoped he was right. He refused to pretend that Mac’s parents never existed. Liz and Blair had been hands-on. “You played a great game. I’m so proud. Your dad would be, too.”

  A shadow dimmed the glow on Mac’s face, but just for a second before it cleared. “Yeah. He liked coming to my games.”

  “So do I,” Jake said. He meant it. He’d be at every game from now on if it killed him. The hay could rot in the fields.

  Mac ran off to celebrate with his teammates. Jake hung back for an opportunity to approach Lacey.

  Just when the crowd had begun to thin and he and Lydia were walking toward her, an older couple entered the soccer field from the parking lot and cut across his path. He slowed his steps.

  Why were Lacey’s mother and stepfather here?

  She wasn’t on good terms with them. He knew that much, but he didn’t know how bad those terms were. Or even why they’d fallen out. Guilt pinched his gut. He’d been so busy wallowing in his own circumstances that he hadn’t bothered asking about hers. What did he know about her life?

  He flagged Mac over. “Would you take your sister over to the playground for a few minutes? She was good the whole game and should get a reward, don’t you think?”

  Mac never complained when he had to mind Lydia. He took her hand and led her off toward the swings, bending his head to hear the story she was babbling to him. Her padded bottom wobbled side to side, and already, Jake could see that her chubby legs were losing a lot of the baby fat as she became more confident on her feet. His throat ached. Her parents—and grandparents—were missing so much. He’d have to make sure he didn’t miss out on it, too.

  Lacey had spotted her mother and Blue. Her bright, sunny smile faded. Jake picked up speed to see if he could help minimize the impact of whatever disaster she clearly awaited.

  “How could you not tell me that Clay’s in the hospital?” her mother demanded.

 
Rachel Fraser was a textbook example of what a trophy wife was. She and Lacey resembled each other in that they had a similar build and the same dark hair and hazel eyes, but where Lacey looked wholesome and athletic, Mrs. Fraser’s trim frame had been honed in a gym. If Jake were to guess, he’d say she’d had some discreet plastic surgery done, too. A nip here, a tuck there… Unless one looked closely, they’d think the two women were sisters, not mother and daughter.

  Blue Fraser, on the other hand, looked exactly like what he was—a hard-drinking former rodeo star who liked to pretend his heyday wasn’t over and he wasn’t bitter. He stood back and let his wife and Lacey have at it.

  “He asked me not to call you,” Lacey said to her mother as Jake pulled up next to Blue. “He’s a grown man. What did you expect me to do?”

  Mrs. Fraser tucked her long, straight dark hair behind her ear. A diamond stud in the lobe refracted the light and flashed shards of pink and blue. “I expected you to make that call, not allow some stranger to break the news to me.”

  “I’m surprised he allowed the hospital to do it. They stopped answering my questions after he regained consciousness and told them not to.”

  “It wasn’t the hospital. It was some trashy buckle bunny named Sherry. Or Cherise. Something ridiculous.” Mrs. Fraser’s curled lip, words, and tone all voiced her opinion. “My God, I wish that boy would grow up.”

  Jake hadn’t known Lacey’s brother was in the hospital. Why hadn’t she said something to him about it?

  No one had acknowledged his presence yet and he definitely felt as if he were horning in on family business. Now that he was here in the thick of it he wasn’t sure what to do. He couldn’t very well interrupt.

  The other parents had wisely drifted away before the squabble began—although not out of earshot because this was Grand and they were shy on entertainment.

  “Mr. Fraser,” he said to Blue, nodding to the other man and reaching over to shake his hand. “I haven’t seen you in years.”

  Blue’s gray eyebrows furrowed as he tried to place Jake and how he knew him. “McGregor, isn’t it? Didn’t you and Lacey go to school together?”