The Rancher Takes a Family

by Paula Altenburg

  “I was a few years ahead.”

  Lacey was hugging her elbows. The tip of her nose had turned pink from two hours in the sun. To anyone who didn’t know her, she’d seem serene. Jake, however, saw the relief in her eyes that he’d provided a distraction.

  “Hi, Jake. Mac played a great game.” That was directed at him. “I coach Jake’s nephew,” she explained to her mother, who looked like she still had a lot more to say and was miffed with the intrusion. “If you could hang on to your thought for a moment, I’d asked if I could speak to him about Mac before he leaves, and he’s in a hurry. Excuse us.”

  She led Jake a short distance away.

  “You’re canceling on me, aren’t you?” she said.

  “I don’t want to,” he said, and how lame did that sound? “But we’re going to be working around the clock until this next cut is in to stay ahead of the rain. The game this morning was all the time I can spare.”

  “I understand.”

  Her tone said it was okay, but it really wasn’t and he knew it. The last time she’d been this understanding, she’d cooked him dinner and made his favorite pie. He kept his hands to himself because it was hardly private here, but resisting the urge was driving him crazy. He’d never been big on PDAs, but Lacey made him reconsider his stance.

  “Why didn’t you tell me your brother was in the hospital? When did that happen?”

  She stretched her lower back, neck, and shoulders, keeping a few feet between them. “The night before I went to Las Vegas. He was dragged around the arena by his horse. When he reached the hospital in Billings he was unconscious and they called me because he’d listed me as next of kin on his insurance. That was why I missed your phone call.”

  She’d had to drive two hours by herself, worried sick about whether or not her brother would live. He understood what she’d gone through, and how much mental energy it took, and he didn’t like it. Not one little bit.

  “You should have told me. I would have taken you.”

  She shrugged one tanned shoulder as if it were no big deal. “There was no reason to bother you. Mara Ramos drove me.”

  He felt as if he’d been kicked. She’d asked someone to drive her—to be there for her—and it hadn’t been him.

  Her smile, meant to reassure him and make him feel better about this ridiculous situation he’d gotten them tangled up in, for once didn’t have its usual sunshine effect.

  He checked on Mac, who was helping Lydia on the small slide in the playground. They’d had too much loss, too. Far more than he had. Yet there was Mac, soldiering on.

  “I have to go deal with my mother,” Lacey said, taking a few skipping steps backward while continuing to face him. Her warm, hazel eyes said all was fine between them. “I’m disappointed, not mad. Call me when you get a chance. You’re still ‘it,’ don’t forget.”

  She gave a little wave of her hand and was gone, her long brown ponytail swinging between slim, straight shoulders, her legs long-muscled and so, so frustratingly sexy. She wasn’t the only one disappointed. What he wouldn’t give to be spending the night with her curled up against him.

  He didn’t want to leave things like this. He was walking away, when right now, she could use backup. This game they were playing had gotten old. If the stares of the remaining parents on the soccer field were any indication, no one in Grand was fooled by it, either.

  “Thanks a lot, Jake,” one of the mothers complained as he passed her on his way to the playground. “Now I can’t have sex tonight. If I do, I’ll get pregnant for sure.”

  *

  Lacey would rather spend a few more minutes with Jake than face her mother and Blue, but she could only avoid them for so long.

  Besides, Jake had hay to put in. He’d done the best he could to help distract them and avoid a public scene, but he wasn’t a magician and he couldn’t make them disappear. She was the one stupid enough to answer her mother’s phone call that morning, then tell her she couldn’t go to Billings with her because she had a soccer game to coach. She’d never dreamed they’d ambush her here.

  She should have expected it, though. Her mother knew Lacey wouldn’t make a scene in public.

  Whereas drama was her mother’s best friend.

  “I’d heard Mary and Liam McGregor were killed,” Blue said to her before her mother could start in on her again. “Their daughter, too. She was a pretty redhead, if I recall. Are those her kids?”

  He pointed at Jake, Mac, and Lydia, who were heading toward the parking lot past the row of trees. Jake had Lydia on his shoulders. The toddler wore his hat. It covered her whole head and looked ridiculously cute. Mac, his face animated, jogged beside him, chattering about what Lacey assumed was the game. To see him talking so much to Jake was impressive.

  And Jake looked so natural with the children. It was amazing what a few months had done for them all. She was so happy for them.

  She was.

  “Those are two of them,” she said, in response to Blue’s question. “There’s a five-year-old, too.”

  “I didn’t know Jake had a wife,” her mother said, weighing in.

  “He doesn’t.”

  “Oh.” Her mother’s face said she was trying to fit the pieces together. “That only leaves the three McGregor brothers, doesn’t it? Who’s taking care of the children for them?”

  Lacey would like to criticize her mother’s sexist assumption that the brothers couldn’t look after the children themselves, but since she’d jumped to the same conclusion—at first—she could hardly cast stones.

  “Jake is their guardian. His brothers are helping him out until the kids settle in and the ranch is up and running again. Losing his dad was a blow to the business, too.”

  Or so she’d heard. It wasn’t as if Jake spoke much about that. But he didn’t have to if he didn’t want. The important thing for her was to be there for him in case he ever did.

  Blue gave a low whistle through his front teeth. “That poor bastard, getting three kids dumped on him like that. And to think I thought you and Clay were a pain in the ass. At least I had your mother to help raise you.”

  Lacey had never disliked her stepfather more than she did at that moment. Blue had thrown money at her and criticism at Clay, who’d only ever wanted approval. He’d had no more part in raising them than their biological parents had.

  And yet here he was, talking about going to Billings to visit a pain in the ass who had made it clear that these days, he felt the same way about Blue.

  Clayton, like Jake in so many ways, needed to work things through on his own. Pushing him would only drive him farther away. It was a pity that the people who claimed to love him couldn’t understand that.

  “You go to Billings to see Clayton if you like,” she said to her mother, ignoring Blue. “I’m not going with you. He’s made it plain he doesn’t want to see any of us. Me included. When he’s ready to see me, he knows where to find me. I’m not that far away.”

  *

  By the time she got home, she was ready to crawl in the tub with a book and soak for a few hours. She had nothing better to do.

  Next door, Mrs. Fitzpatrick was on her hands and knees on her front lawn, weeding the flower beds lining the walkway to her door. Her bright fuchsia blouse warred with her phlox. Her stretchy blue shorts covered far less than she probably knew. But hey, it was her yard. She could wear what she liked.

  When she saw Lacey, she sat up and pulled off her gloves.

  “Come over and have a glass of iced tea with me,” she called.

  Lacey liked Mrs. Fitzpatrick. She was a kind and thoughtful neighbor. She was also nosy as sin. It wasn’t the first time Lacey had been invited over for tea—and an interrogation. She hadn’t forgotten who’d tipped Neil off that Jake had spent the night here with her either.

  But she couldn’t think of a polite reason to say no when Mrs. Fitzpatrick already knew her Saturday routine. She cleaned her house after soccer and sometimes had dinner with friends. Jake was th
e new addition to her predictable schedule—but so far, only the once.

  She joined the older woman on her front veranda and sat in a wicker chair while Mrs. Fitzpatrick bustled around and got them two tall, sweating glasses, brim full and clinking with ice. It was cooler in the shade, but only a little less so.

  “I’ve been trying to think of the best way to bring this up,” Mrs. Fitzpatrick began. “It’s about your late-night guest.”

  “Which one?” Lacey asked. Because why make this easy?

  “The tall one who wasn’t Neil Pierce and looked a lot like Jake McGregor.”

  “Jake McGregor?” She worked on the innocent expression her students tried to pull off, hoping she’d have better luck. “His nephew plays on my soccer team.”

  “That’s lovely, dear. You’ll be teaching the boy in the fall, too, won’t you?”

  “Yes,” Lacey said, since that was hardly a secret.

  “Why?” Mrs. Fitzpatrick asked.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  But she did know where they were going with this.

  “Why bother pretending you aren’t seeing Jake, when that news is all over town? Why are you teaching Jake’s nephew’s class when you know it’s going to be talked about? What good do you think it will do?”

  Why all the questions?

  “We’re friends. We’ve known each other for years.” That part was true. “Jake doesn’t have time for a serious relationship.” True as well.

  “Male friends don’t sneak out of a woman’s house at three in the morning.”

  Lacey deliberated as to what to do or say next. Appealing to Mrs. Fitzpatrick’s softer side might be the best route to take. “The McGregors are grieving. It’s not the right time for him to introduce somebody new to the family.”

  “Things really are serious, then.” Mrs. Fitzpatrick’s eyes sparked with satisfaction at having been proven right. “What if he decides the time is right in September or October? Maybe next March? Neil’s classroom is up for grabs. Take it. Let the new teacher have yours. Appeal to the board.”

  They would figure out why she’d made the request and she and Jake weren’t deep enough into their relationship for her to be making that kind of career move.

  “It’s too soon,” Lacey said.

  “And once you’re into the school year, it will be too late. So why not make the change now? What will you gain by waiting?” Mrs. Fitzpatrick plunked her iced tea on the small round glass table between them. “All of Grand wants to see the McGregor boys and those children happy. But you won’t make that happen by sneaking around. Word is out and the damage is done. You got away with it when Jake’s nephew lit into that Brown boy at soccer, but the first time you take his side in some schoolyard dispute you’ve got a problem. Not to mention, you have your own reputation to think about. What about your pride? Do you really want to be seen as Jake McGregor’s booty call?”

  Lacey finished her drink. “Thank you for the iced tea,” she said politely.

  Chapter Twelve

  When Jake arrived home, the yard in front of the barns was full of vehicles that should have been in the fields. Men—and one hyper-excited, redheaded five-year-old—clustered around one of the wagons. A large mound of black fur could be seen.

  The Wagging Tongue had lost two more cattle. He’d heard the Running River lost another three. The men had taken to carrying rifles when they were out on the range. It seemed the bear problem had been resolved.

  Luke had a firm grip on Finn’s T-shirt to keep him from tearing across the yard toward Jake’s truck, a strictly-enforced rule when any engines were running. Mac bailed out, did the obligatory check for moving vehicles, and hustled over to the wagon to take a closer look.

  The horses in the paddock next to the barn had gotten a whiff of the dead animal and were anxious. They’d bunched together at the fence farthest away and were jostling about, muzzles wrinkled, ears rotating like crazy.

  Jake unfastened Lydia from her seat. She was tuckered out and content to be held, her blonde head on his shoulder and her thumb in her mouth as he went to check out the fuss for himself.

  “Uncle Luke shot a bear!”

  Finn’s announcement was delivered to him at full volume and in all capital letters. Jake guessed there wouldn’t be any emotional issues to deal with over this. He’d worried for a second over having to explain death to him again because it was a concept Finn didn’t quite grasp.

  The black bear was a big one. Luke was a good shot, but unless he hit the heart with the first bullet—unlikely—he’d have had to take more than one. Having Finn with him would have been another distraction, because he’d need to keep track of him, too.

  If there was a story, Jake decided it might be best not to hear it. He was already mad about the dance classes. And maybe missing out on an evening with Lacey. Punching Luke might make him feel better, but not for long. Or at least, not long enough.

  Jake tapped Mac’s shoulder. “Go check on Thunder. He won’t like the smell of bear.”

  Luke made arrangements with one of the men to have the carcass butchered.

  Meanwhile, Jake fed the children their lunch. After that, he took them next door to Posey’s. She’d agreed to keep them overnight.

  Jake hadn’t quite figured Posey out. She didn’t appear in need of the little bit of money he paid her, so he hoped he wasn’t taking advantage of her because she was too nice to say no, but the kids really liked her and she seemed to like them. Her daughter Trixie played well with Lydia, so for him, it was a definite win situation.

  “Where’s Zack today?” Posey asked casually.

  There was something about the way she said it that made Jake take notice, then begin mentally connecting the dots. Posey was pretty and Zack spent a lot of time here. But she also made him think that things weren’t all they seemed on the surface with her.

  He should pay more attention to what was going on in his brothers’ lives outside of the ranch. “Zack’s out on a tractor,” he said. “That’s where I should be, too.”

  An hour later, the tractor he drove rocked and swayed over the uneven ground. The protective earmuffs he wore muted the rumble of the engine.

  Being out in the fields with the sun and the wind and the smell of fresh-cut grass all around him helped clear his head and face a few truths. He was being unfair to Lacey. He had to pull back a little and think about what he was doing to her. So far, their entire relationship—what little there was—had been all about him. He didn’t have the time for her she deserved.

  But damn, he did not want to give her up.

  He dragged himself home the next morning after passing his shift off to somebody else, too tired to call her. The day after that was the same.

  The fight with Luke broke out on the third day when Jake was especially short-tempered.

  They were alone in the barn. Jake had a few lame cows that needed their hooves trimmed. Luke was pushing a heifer into the hoof-trimming stall from behind, and Jake was guiding her head into the tie rail at the front, when she hauled her head back through the rail, taking his hand with it. The stall rocked back and forth, almost a thousand pounds of galvanized steel, and Jake feared for a few awful seconds that it was going to tip over and take his arm with it.

  It righted itself, the cow kicked her way free, and Jake’s hand popped free, too. He swore and shook his fingers, checking to see if they were all there.

  Luke ducked around the end of the stall and out of the way of the flailing hooves, coming toward him, his face anxious. “You okay?”

  Jake shoved him. “What do you think?”

  “I think you’re an asshole.” Luke shoved him back.

  Jake lost it. He took a swing at Luke’s head. Luke ducked and came back with a solid blow to Jake’s ribs. Jake tackled him, and then, they were on the ground in the sawdust and sand.

  When the dust finally settled, Jake had a black eye and bloody nose. Luke’s cheek was swollen and red. They both sat in the dirt,
breathing heavily.

  Luke rested his arm on his bent knee. “What was that for?”

  “You were supposed to drop the gate so the damn cow couldn’t back out.” Jake dabbed at his nose with the sleeve of his coverall.

  “No, I mean what was it really about? You’ve been in a foul mood all week, even by your usual high standards.”

  Jake told him. Because why not.

  Luke held out his hand and helped Jake to his feet. “I’m the last person who should be giving anyone advice about women. I asked a girl to marry me, she said yes, and when I told her I was spending a year in Montana, she bailed.”

  “Ouch,” Jake said. “You win.” At least Lacey was willing to try.

  “That’s not how it feels.” Luke dusted his coveralls off. “But here’s my two cents. Why not talk to Mac and see how he feels about you dating his teacher—because trust me, you don’t want him to be the last to find out—give him some time to get used to the idea, then invite Lacey out here to get to know us a little?”

  “I could do that,” Jake said.

  “Don’t blame me if she runs away screaming.” Luke hesitated, frowning as if he had bad news to impart. “Weldon Scott offered to buy out my shares in the ranch.”

  He wasn’t surprised, but it bugged him that Weldon wouldn’t give up. “And you said?”

  “I told him if I ever do decide to sell, I already have a buyer in mind.”

  Jake slung his arm around Luke’s shoulder. He and his brother might not agree on a lot of things, but on one thing they were both clear. The Wagging Tongue Ranch had belonged to the McGregors for two hundred years and they weren’t going to be its last generation. “Sorry for shoving you.”

  “Sorry about not dropping that gate fast enough,” Luke said.

  *

  Lacey didn’t see Jake for two weeks. He called a few times, but other than to share information about the ranch and the children, he was frustratingly poor at small talk.

  Preoccupied, too. Whatever was going on, he wasn’t ready to share.