The Rancher Takes a Family

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The Rancher Takes a Family Page 15

by Paula Altenburg


  She wanted to be understanding. She really did. Ranchers had little spare time in the summer. When they found it, they tended to spend it at home with their families and his children needed his attention.

  Meanwhile, she was spending her summer alone, sitting around waiting for him to call. Things would get better in the fall, but by then, she’d be back in school.

  Then, on a Saturday afternoon, he called at the last minute to invite her to dinner. He said they were going out of town, that he’d pick her up around five, and told her to dress casual.

  Sunlight streamed through her freshly washed patio doors. She’d been scrubbing floors when he called and her house was a mess. So was she. She wondered what his idea of casual might be. A quick check of the clock said it wasn’t yet one. And why he was picking her up here rather than asking her to meet him somewhere.

  But the real question was how she’d start the conversation they needed to have regarding where they were headed, because Mrs. Fitzgerald was right. While Mac might be doing well at the moment, he had a long way to go in the grieving process. Anything could set him off. Even if she and Jake were to stop seeing each other, she’d never be viewed as impartial as far as Mac was concerned.

  And, whether she was teaching Mac or not, professionally, she couldn’t afford to be seen by Grand as Jake McGregor’s booty call, as Mrs. Fitzgerald had put it. Teachers were held to higher standards. One complaint to the board and her career would be damaged. So, where did that leave them?

  Her house was clean and she was ready to go when he arrived. She’d gone for a short-skirted yellow dress with a pale lilac pattern. Cowgirl boots kept it casual.

  He came to the door in a blue and gray shirt with the sleeves rolled up past the elbows, well-fitting jeans, boots, and a Stetson. She loved Grand in spite of itself and here stood the main reason why. No one made men better than this. The way his gaze ran over her said he had no complaints about the way she looked, either.

  “Ready to go?” he asked.

  She placed her palm on his chest and smoothed the front of his shirt. They didn’t need to go out to have that conversation. And they didn’t need to start the night off with it.

  “Or, we could stay in.”

  The heat of temptation flared in his eyes, with regret close on its heels. “Not tonight. I already have reservations for dinner.”

  A ripple of fear chilled her spine. Something was up. He wasn’t planning to tell her that things weren’t working out for him, was he?

  She strove for lightness. “I feel as if our relationship has gone stale.”

  He cupped her face between his palms and ran the roughened pads of his thumbs gently over her cheeks. He bent his head and kissed her until she clutched at his biceps for support.

  “Never,” he said. “But I’m ‘it’ tonight and I have plans for this evening.”

  “I’m intrigued,” she said. And relieved.

  They really did need to talk, though.

  Mrs. Fitzpatrick was on her stoop as they walked to the truck. Jake waved to her before handing Lacey into the cab. She gave Lacey a thumbs-up behind his back. He strode around to the driver’s side and climbed in.

  “Where are we going?” she asked once he was settled. She’d half-expected a picnic, but there was no basket. “A motel?”

  “Not a chance. I meant what I said about that. You’ll have to be patient.”

  When they turned left instead of right at the lights in the center of Grand, she realized they were headed toward the Wagging Tongue River.

  And Jake’s ranch.

  He parked in the yard and came around to open her door. She swung her legs out of the truck so that she faced him as she dropped into his arms. He kissed her—just a quick slide of his lips across hers—before setting her on her feet.

  “What’s going on?” Lacey asked, puzzled. “Is everyone away?”

  “No.” He took her hand. “Come on. Dinner’s ready. Zack’s menu is limited, but he’s a pretty good cook. We’re having wildfire chili with bear meat.”

  He’d mentioned that Luke shot a bear. She hadn’t put any thought into what they might have done with it.

  “Very funny.” She hung back. “Are you sure about this? What about Mac?”

  “Mac was fine when I told him you were coming over this evening. He likes you.” Jake squeezed her fingers. “He’s going to be disappointed that you aren’t dressed for sports, though. You can’t say I didn’t warn you. I told you it was casual.”

  “I dressed for you, not your family. I wish I’d known.”

  He tugged her to his side and draped his arm around her shoulders, nudging her up the walk. “And since I invited you over to play with me, not him, we don’t have a problem. He can make his own playdates.”

  “I’ve never had bear meat before,” she said, still not quite sure if he was having fun at her expense.

  “Don’t worry—it tastes nothing like chicken.” They reached the front steps. “Quit dragging your feet, Miss Anderson. Everyone’s waiting on you. If the bear meat’s an issue, Zack made spaghetti and meatballs for the kids.”

  “Are the meatballs made out of bear meat, too?”

  “Shh. Quiet. They’ll hear you.” He pushed open the screen door. “We’re here,” he called out.

  The foyer was much as she remembered, except for a wooden crate on casters that leaned against the side of the staircase. She couldn’t imagine what that was used for, but before she could ask, Luke appeared on the landing above. He carried Lydia, who wore a pretty green dress.

  “How come Lydia didn’t have to dress casual?” Lacey said to Jake.

  He smiled down at her. “What she wears doesn’t matter. She plays football with us all the time and never gets dirty. You’ll have to watch, but you’ll be missing out on the fun.” He bent to whisper in her ear. “I have your fun planned for after the kids are in bed.”

  “Hey, Lacey,” Luke said, reaching the foot of the stairs. “Long time no see.”

  “Not since high school graduation.”

  Lacey had left for her grandmother’s shortly after. By the time she returned to Grand a few years ago to teach, Luke was long gone. PhD positions were highly competitive and studies left little free time. He was as handsome as his older brother, although a little leaner, because his work wasn’t as physical.

  And he still did nothing for her.

  “Food’s on!” a man shouted from the kitchen. That had to be Zack.

  “We debated serving dinner in the dining room,” Jake said, “but decided against it. We’ve always used that room for holidays.” Sadness flickered across his face, gone as fast as it appeared. “Besides, you and I are on dish duty and I wasn’t in favor of going fancy and dirtying more than we have to.”

  This was a male household, alright.

  “You have my deepest sympathies,” she said to Lydia, who grinned at her and didn’t look in the least troubled by her situation.

  The kitchen, too, was unchanged—large and intended for use. The curtains in the window over the sink were now yellow, but the walls remained an earthy off-white and the floor was terra cotta. The countertop was a long chopping block, scarred and stained with age.

  Mac was positioning plates and bowls around an enormous round table that matched the expansive oak cupboards. Finn followed behind him, his red hair cow-licked up in the front, stretching on his bare toes to place the forks, knives, and spoons beside the plates.

  A stack of napkins and bowl of pasta occupied the table’s center space, along with a smaller pot of what must be the spaghetti sauce, and a huge pot of chili that smelled amazing. Lacey had no idea whether or not it contained bear meat, or if Jake had been teasing her, but it didn’t matter. She was going to eat it if it killed her.

  Mac looked up from his task. “Hi, Miss Anderson.”

  He didn’t smile at her, but he didn’t appear bothered by her appearance in his home, either. Instead, he went right back to work. She’d noticed at soccer that
he seemed more content lately. He was never going to be chatty—he was too much like Jake—but he’d begun to make friends with a few of the other boys on the team, including Greg Brown. The therapy he’d been receiving seemed to be doing wonders, although Lacey suspected his horse had a lot more to do with it. Jake understood his nephew. And Mac idolized Jake.

  “Lacey. Great to see you again. It’s been… what? Fifteen years? Pull up a chair.” Zack, standing at the oven, passed a huge basket of biscuits to Jake. “Get them while they’re hot.”

  Luke plopped Lydia into her high chair, dragging it to the table so she sat beside him, and slipped a bib over her head. He cut open a biscuit, blew on it, added a dollop of butter, and gave it to her. While Lydia played with that, he filled her plastic bowl with a little cut-up spaghetti and a few spoonsful of sauce and set it aside so it could cool.

  Lacey was in awe. The McGregor household ran like a well-oiled machine. The food was delicious, too. She didn’t bother trying to guess if the mystery meat was what Jake claimed it to be because she’d rather not know if he was teasing or not.

  The men discussed business over dinner, stopping every now and then to address Lydia’s needs or to patiently answer one of Finn’s countless questions. As an elementary schoolteacher, Lacey was well used to those. Once or twice, Jake slid his hand under the table to squeeze her hand or her knee, just to let her know he hadn’t forgotten she was there.

  “Who’s up for football before dessert?” Jake asked when they finished.

  “Me!” both boys shouted.

  He picked up his plate. “First, we clear the table.”

  Lacey helped Finn stack his dishes with hers, then she carried them to the counter and set them next to the sink. She followed the men as they all trooped outside to the front lawn. Behind the barns, a heavy mass of gray cotton batting hung over the badlands. Lydia toddled beside Luke, her fluffy blond hair speckled with dried tomato sauce, her tiny hand hanging on tight to one of his fingers.

  “Would you like me to mind Lydia for you?” Lacey asked Luke.

  “Thanks for the offer, but we need her. She’s the football.”

  He wasn’t serious. “You can’t use a baby as a football.”

  Jake overheard. “We’re not playing tackle,” he said, as if that was supposed to reassure her. “It’s more like keep-away.” He winked at her. “Or tag, but a different version than the game you and I play. You’ll see.”

  “Don’t make me call child and family services on you,” she said.

  She tucked her skirt under her and sat on the steps, rested her elbows on her knees, cupped her chin in her palms, and mentally prepared for the worst.

  It didn’t turn out to be as bad as she expected. She wasn’t sure if she was horrified or impressed by the inclusiveness. It involved the men passing Lydia back and forth over the boys’ heads. If the boys managed to tap her diaper, they earned a point. If they grabbed hold of her, they lost five. Once one of the boys got to ten, the game was won.

  Either way, she had to admit, it was a fun game to watch. The men were too big for the boys to knock down if things got rough and Lydia squealed with excitement whenever she got handed off from one uncle to another.

  Jake, however, was the one Lacey couldn’t tear her eyes away from. He held Lydia over his head in a horizontal position as if she were a tiny ice dancer, feinted toward Luke, pivoted, and passed her into Zack’s waiting hands. Finn made a mighty leap and missed tagging her diaper by two feet, at least.

  This Jake was so much more relaxed than the man who’d shown up in the schoolyard with two orphaned nephews two months ago. In fact, all three of the McGregors had shown what they were made of when it came to dealing with a family tragedy.

  Jake had all the support he needed, right here.

  He didn’t need her.

  She tried so hard to be happy about that.

  The game finally wound down.

  “Dessert, then bath time,” Jake announced. He set Lydia on her feet. She looked so tiny standing beside him, hanging on to his pants leg.

  Luke put the coffeepot on for the adults while the boys got juice from the fridge. Zack took a chocolate cake out of the pantry and divided it up. Lydia shared a few forkfuls of Zack’s instead of getting her own.

  Lacey finished her slice, then sipped coffee with Jake while Zack and Luke took the children upstairs to get ready for bed.

  “What’s wrong?” Jake asked.

  “Not a thing,” she said honestly.

  The children were well loved, well fed, and well cared for. The only thing she had to contribute that Jake seemed to value was an escape when he needed time off—although he seemed to have very little need for that anymore, either.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lacey helped Jake load the dishwasher, then dried the pots and pans while he washed.

  “Do you mind babysitting with me tonight?” he asked. “I probably should have checked with you first, but Luke and Zack are both going out, so it’s just you and me and three kids.”

  “I don’t mind. Although I don’t think it’s called babysitting when the kids belong to you.”

  “Whatever. They’ll fall asleep soon. It was Zack’s idea to play football with them. It wears them out.” He ran a wet, soapy finger up her thigh to the hem of her skirt.

  She danced out of reach. “Cut that out.”

  She had no idea what tonight was about, or why, all of a sudden, he’d gotten his family involved. She ran the dish towel over a stainless-steel lid. There was nothing to lose by coming right out and asking.

  “Why did you bring me here this evening?”

  He dunked the dishcloth in the soapy water and took his time scrubbing the final pot, putting serious effort into the stains on the bottom. He rinsed it under the tap and handed it to her. “I thought you should see what my life is like now.”

  “I already knew it was busy.” She’d had the empty bed and late-night phone calls to prove it.

  “That’s not where I—”

  Little footsteps pattered on the floor outside of the kitchen, interrupting. Finn, wet-haired and wearing nothing but red underpants, scampered into the room. He had a magazine in his hands.

  “Finn, what was our agreement about putting clothes on when we have company?” Jake asked, scowling at him.

  “I have clothes on,” Finn said. His tone added, duh.

  Lacey could guess where his comfort with nudity came from.

  Finn gave his uncle a wide berth and headed for her. He held the magazine out.

  “Would you read me my story?” he asked, wide-eyed and pleading.

  She was no neophyte when it came to kids. She knew she was being played. Finn had con artist written all over him. But she could understand why Jake had headed home in the middle of the night for him. It wasn’t as if she could say no to that little face, either.

  She looked to Jake for permission though, in case he’d toughened up.

  “Go ahead,” he said.

  She hung the dish towel to dry on the oven door and took the magazine from Finn, curious as to what their reading material would be.

  She took a closer look. “Jake. This is a tractor catalogue.”

  “Finn likes tractors, don’t you, bud?”

  “‘Nothing runs like a Deere,’” Finn replied, bobbing his head up and down while quoting the John Deere slogan as if swearing a solemn oath.

  Lacey laughed at the pride on Jake’s face. “You had nothing to do with his obsession, I’m sure.”

  “I can’t take all the credit. He likes the green and yellow colors and that’s not how I choose my equipment.” He caught Finn under the arms, lifted him, and turned him around. “Come on. Let’s go get your pajamas on. Then Lacey can read to you.”

  She followed Jake and Finn to the second floor.

  She’d never been up here before. Jake’s parents had set some strict rules when they were dating. There was a bedroom on the left and a massive bathroom on the right. The bathr
oom floor looked as if a tsunami had struck. Two large bath towels drowned in the puddles. Straight ahead of her at the end of the hall was a closed door. Finn’s bedroom was on the right next to the bathroom. She could hear Luke tucking Lydia into bed in the room beside Finn’s. Mac had the bedroom on the left between the first room at the top of the stairs and the closed door at the end of the hall.

  The home’s age showed in the solid craftsmanship of the wide beams and wood floors. The early settlers really knew how to build. The large bathroom had likely been converted from a former bedroom when indoor plumbing became a thing.

  And this was only the main part of the house. There was another entire annex. Two families could easily live here.

  Jake got pajamas from the top drawer of Finn’s dresser and helped him put them on. Finn crawled into the narrow bed. Lacey perched on the edge beside him and he snuggled up close. She fell in love.

  “I’ll be downstairs,” Jake said to her.

  She had Finn pick out the words on the page that he recognized as they flipped through the catalogue. Luke and Zack both stopped in to say good night before leaving.

  When Finn’s eyes became too heavy to hold open, she closed it. “Time to sleep.”

  She tucked the covers around him. The front tooth that was missing when she first met him had been replaced by a pearly-white stub. Dark red eyelashes lowered over those trademark McGregor green eyes.

  “I miss my mommy,” he whispered.

  Well, if that didn’t grab at the heart.

  “What do you miss most about her?” Lacey asked.

  Solemn green pools reflected the light above his bed. He still spoke in a whisper, as if revealing a deep, dark secret. “No one loves me, anymore.”

  What a terrible thing for a child to believe. She’d have a talk with Jake about that. “Everyone in this house loves you.”

  He looked unconvinced. “Boys don’t love each other.”

  “They absolutely do so,” Lacey assured him. “They’re just better at showing it than telling it.”

  Finn chewed on that. “I like being told.”

  “I do, too,” she said. And she wished she could say it to him, because she could so easily love him, but it would be wrong when she didn’t know how big a part she’d play in his life, or for how long. She and Jake didn’t get to see that much of each other. “But as you get older, you learn that actions speak louder than words, and sometimes, they’re a lot more important.”

 

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