by Liz Isaacson
Ty could see something awry in River Lee. Heck, a blind man would’ve been able to tell simply because of the amped up vibes she emitted into the atmosphere. He couldn’t shake Lexi’s hand out of his, though, so he just kept walking. He helped Lexi into the sedan while River Lee buckled Hannah into a car seat.
“We’re headed over right now?” River Lee wouldn’t look at him, and she hugged herself as if cold, though the summer sun torched everything it touched.
“You can go change if you want.” He stepped closer to her and trailed his fingers up her bare arm, a shiver infecting him as it shook her shoulders. “You don’t have to come. I just thought it would be nice. A bit of a change.”
The smile she sent in his direction seemed a bit stretched around the edges. “I like anything I don’t have to make myself.”
He leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead. “All right. Let’s go then.” Ty tucked his hand in hers and tugged her toward his truck.
River Lee looked over her shoulder at the sedan as her mother slid behind the wheel. “She’s—we’re—?”
“She’ll meet us there.” Ty kept his feet moving toward his pickup. “Do you want me to stop by your place so you can change?”
River Lee shook her head, her steps landing a bit closer to him. She laid her cheek against his bicep, and a surge of satisfaction roared through Ty with the force of a tidal wave. He squeezed her fingers, unsure of how to articulate anything in that moment.
The drive happened with low country music in the background and River Lee sitting right next to him on the bench seat. She hummed along with the songs, her attitude completely different now.
He pulled up to the curb in front of his parents’ house and flipped the truck into park. He half-turned toward River Lee at the same time she faced him. “You ready?”
She stretched up and kissed him, her lips soft and sweet against his. She broke the connection long before he was ready to let her go. “Now I’m ready.”
He twisted away from her and got out of the truck before he kissed her again. He rapped on the front door at the same time he opened it, his right hand tightly secured in River Lee’s. “Ma? Dad?”
“There you are.” His mom poked her head around the wall leading into the kitchen. “Come in, come in.” She wiped her sudsy hands on her apron as she entered the living room with a smile. “River Lee, look at you.”
Ty watched River Lee for a reaction. She tolerated him calling her River Lee, but he wasn’t sure how she’d react to his mother doing it. She beamed at the older woman, released Ty’s hand, and accepted the hug his mother offered.
“Good to see you again, Charlotte,” River Lee said. “What do you need help with?”
His mom waved her hand like she’d had the entire meal catered. “Nothing. Come on back. We’re going to eat on the deck.” She glanced over River Lee’s shoulder. “Where are your girls?”
“My mother was right behind us.” River Lee slipped her fingers back into Ty’s as she followed his mom around the corner and into the kitchen. Ty’s spirits rose with how easily she moved in the house, how charismatic she was, how charitable.
She caught him grinning and lifted her eyebrows in a silent question. He shook his head. “Where’s Dad?”
“He’s building a fire. He thought the girls would like to make s’mores.” His mom lifted a massive red bowl and handed it to Ty. “Take that out to the table, would you?”
Ty didn’t really have a choice. He accepted the bowl of potato salad from his mom, balanced it against his chest with one arm so he could pick out a piece of potato with a chunk of carrot on it. He popped it into his mouth as his mother frowned.
“Ty.”
“I can’t help myself,” he said, moving around the dining room table toward the backdoor. “Your potato salad is so good.” He plucked up another bite, this time with a green pea in tow. He loved the creaminess from the sour cream and mayo. Loved the fresh vegetables—corn, peas, carrots, and green beans—among the potatoes. And his mother was a master at salting vegetables until they tasted good.
“Tell me your girls’ names,” his mom said as Ty stepped outside, and he increased his pace so he wouldn’t have to leave River Lee alone for long.
“Hey, Dad.” Ty set the bowl in its obvious place on the table and turned toward the fire pit, which sat several paces away from the shaded deck. Three towering pine trees kept the fire pit out of the sun as well, and kept the playground his father had installed when Vienna had her first child shady too.
“Ty.” He poked at the almost charred logs in the pit. “River Lee here?”
“Mom is giving her the fifth degree.”
His father chuckled. “I’m sure she is.”
Ty wasn’t sure what else to say. He saw his parents every Saturday, and he didn’t have a lot going on in his life that he needed to talk about. When he’d proposed the idea of hosting River Lee, her girls, and her mother for lunch, his parents had been struck speechless for several seconds. Then his mother had flown into high gear by menu-making and giving Ty a list of things to clean before he left.
“So you like this woman,” he dad said. It wasn’t really a question.
“I always have,” Ty said, his voice on the lower edge of audible.
“She’s got two daughters.”
“I’m aware.” Ty didn’t let any annoyance infuse his voice. His dad wasn’t one to lecture, and Ty had learned over the past three decades of his life to appreciate the few things his dad did say.
“They gonna live with you on the ranch?”
Ty tipped his head back and laughed. The sound sailed into the sky, releasing the pent-up tension in Ty’s shoulders. “Dad. She’s been back in town for two weeks. We’ve spent a couple of days together.”
His father met Ty’s eyes, but he wasn’t laughing. “Yeah, but you’d know by now if you didn’t want to be with her.”
“Dad—”
“And she has two girls. She wouldn’t put them through something she didn’t think she could see through to the end.”
Ty shook his head, frustration foaming in the back of his mind. “Dad, please don’t do this today. It’s just lunch.”
“All right.” His dad lifted one hand in agreement.
Ty said, “Thank you,” and started back toward the house, hoping River Lee wasn’t being subjected to a similar conversation from his mother.
Chapter 13
Ty leaned away from the picnic table, the blueness of the sky above him almost unbelievable. “Best lunch ever, Ma.” He shot her one of his I’m-your-favorite-son grins, which always won her over. He’d learned the skill when he was only fifteen, and even when he got himself into a stitch or two of trouble, he could flash that grin and she’d soften considerably.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d brought a woman to meet his parents. As he watched Lexi and Hannah play on the swing set, he realized he’d never brought someone to meet his parents. He simply had never been serious about someone the way he was about River Lee.
His throat narrowed and his stomach felt overly full of brisket, bread, and that delicious potato salad. Still, he managed to sling his arm around River Lee’s shoulders and enjoy the summer breeze coming through the trees. Her mother had eased some of the pressure on him to keep the conversation on the right topics, but he was ready to be alone with River Lee now.
“Should we go to the pond?” he asked.
Before River Lee could respond, a shrill wail filled the summer sky. His gaze anchored on the girls, one of whom was running toward them and one who was lying in the grass crying.
River Lee got up and hurried toward her daughters, scooping up Hannah and asking her what had happened. Ty had seen River Lee console her kids before, get them settled down, fix everything. She was remarkably good at it while Ty didn’t have the first clue about what to do.
“Let me go see if she needs help.” Her mom got up and crossed the deck, leaving Ty alone with his parents.
“She’s a nice woman.” His mom patted his hand as she stood. She gathered whatever leftovers she could carry and headed into the house.
The weight of his father’s gaze stayed on Ty’s face, and he finally looked at his dad. “Go on, then,” he said.
His dad looked toward the playground and back to Ty. “You think you’re ready to be a father?”
“Dad.” Ty exhaled, the sound full of exasperation. “We’ve spent a couple of days together. We’re not getting married tomorrow.”
“You’re not gettin’ any younger.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “And neither is she.”
Ty pushed himself up, his muscles as tired as this conversation. “All right, Dad.”
“What will you do to support yourself and maybe a family when you can’t ranch anymore?”
Ty paused, confusion racing through him at the topic change. “Why wouldn’t I be able to ranch?”
His dad stood and stacked the plates. “All cowboys eventually become something else,” he said. “That’s all I’m sayin’.” He lifted the dishes and left Ty to his thoughts.
And Ty didn’t like where his thoughts went. He’d never given much thought to what he’d do when he got older, when his body wasn’t as strong as it was now. Heck, he rarely thought much beyond that day’s chores and activities.
As Lexi continued to cry, a sense of inadequacy dove through Ty, saturating his muscles, his bones, his very soul.
What do I do now? he thought, sending the thought toward heaven, hoping the Lord would tell him.
River Lee turned, frustration etched in the lines around her eyes. She marched back to him, Hannah balanced on one hip. “I need to take the girls home,” she said. “They need naps.”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Ty’s heart plummeted to the tips of his boots, but he tried to infuse understanding and kindness into his voice. “We can go to the pond anytime.”
As River Lee’s mother brought a still sniffling Lexi closer, Ty crouched to be on the girl’s level. “We’ll go feed the ducks another time, ‘kay?”
A fresh set of tears slid down her face. “We can’t feed the ducks?” She switched her gaze to River Lee.
“No.” A flush worked its way through River Lee’s face, and her jaw clenched. “You need a nap.” She turned and reached for her plate.
Ty leapt to intercept her. “You don’t need to clean up.”
She looked near tears herself. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“Nothin’ to be sorry about.” He nudged her toward the backdoor. “I’ll walk you out.” Ty stuck a smile to his face and guided River Lee through the house, a mixture of emotions swirling through him until he couldn’t separate them.
He stood back, out of place, as the girls got loaded into the car. River Lee brushed her fingertips along his before she turned and slid onto the passenger seat. Ty lifted his hand as they drove away, but nothing about the afternoon made him cheerful. Especially that he didn’t even get to kiss River Lee goodbye.
River slept poorly that week. She suffered through bone-jarring horseback riding lessons that weekend and snuck off behind the cabin next to the barn to kiss Ty until she felt seconds away from passing out.
He went on over to his mother’s and she took a much-needed nap. She saved him a seat on the pew next to her, and they held hands during the sermon. He didn’t set up any more lunches with his family, and she didn’t invite him over to her mother’s to eat either.
Weeks passed after the same manner, and River knew something was holding Ty back. He was affectionate, and sometimes he looked at her with such heat and desire in his eyes she thought she’d melt.
If his gaze wouldn’t do it, the July sun in Montana would. As she dumped ice over the water bottles she’d put in the cooler, she called down the hall to her mother, “Did you get the sunscreen?”
The Fourth of July parade started at ten and usually lasted a good two hours. By noon, River would be ready to escape the sunshine even with sunscreen.
Her mom appeared at the mouth of the hall, a large bag slung over her shoulder. “Got it. And the licorice, and the dill pickle chips.”
River smiled. “And I’ve got the water. Let’s get the girls.” She stepped to the sliding glass door and called for Lexi and Hannah to bring Pippa so they could go to the parade. All three of them came barreling toward the house, and River’s mom scooped up the little dog and set her in the top of her bag.
“Ty said there was a spot saved across from McCall’s,” River said as her mom backed out of the driveway.
“I invited Milt to sit with us too,” her mom said, and every red flag in River’s mind rose.
“Milt?”
Her mom wouldn’t look at her, and her voice sounded the tiniest bit squeaky when she said, “We’re friends.”
River wasn’t sure how she felt. She didn’t know her dad, and her mom had never seemed unhappy without him in her life. River knew she’d dated in the past, but for some reason, having a name and a face to go with the situation felt more personal.
“That’s great, Mom.”
Her mom laughed. “We’re not engaged or anything. It’s not a big deal.” She finally cut a look in River’s direction. “Not like you and Ty.”
Warmth filled River at the mere mention of his name, as it had been doing for weeks. “I like him,” she said carefully as if she were in one of her therapy sessions with Dr. Thatcher, the psychiatrist she’d been seeing since she got to town.
“And he certainly likes you.” Her mom turned and they hit bumper-to-bumper traffic.
“We’re not engaged either,” River said. “It’s not a big deal.” The words felt false on her tongue—her relationship with Ty was a big deal to her. He seemed just as serious as she did, and all her previous fears about him had vanished.
Still, something wasn’t quite right with him and she needed to find out what it was.
Today, she told herself as her mom admitted defeat and pulled to the side of the road. “We’ll have to walk from here, girls,” she said as she cut the engine and opened her door. “Everyone carries something.”
River made sure she had a chair and the blessed cooler full of water before she allowed her mind to wander to Ty again. She’d obsessed over what could be bothering him and had come up blank every time.
Now, as the spot that had been roped off for the ranch came into view, just as much hopelessness crowded her lungs. At least a dozen cowboys loitered in the area, and River hesitated as she searched for the one face she wanted to see.
The crowd parted, and there Ty stood. He wore a casual pair of khaki shorts and a blue polo, a look she didn’t see too often on the cowboy. His normal chocolate-brown cowboy hat sat in place, completing the picture of perfection. “Hey.” He grinned at her with the wattage of the Vegas Strip, and she basked in the warmth of it.
“Hey, yourself.” She stepped over the rope and handed him her camp chair. “I brought water.”
“We load up on soda,” he said as he lifted a mug the size of her head. Every cowboy seemed to have one, and River wondered if the foreman had them on soda rations. He set up her chair and her mom spread the blanket for the girls in front of that. River sat, and Ty pulled up a chair next to her. Her mom disappeared to the corner of the area with Milton, her not-so-secret boyfriend, but she left the bag with all the treats.
“This is a nice spot,” River said as she scanned the street in front of them. “Shady.”
Ty claimed her hand and lifted it to his lips. He kissed the inside of her wrist, making her feel alive in a way she hadn’t before. “It’s good to see you.”
She flashed him a smile that felt like peanuts compared to his. This was the Ty she knew, the Ty who knew how he felt and wasn’t afraid to show it. The Ty who looked at her like she was made of pure chocolate and he wanted to eat all of her. Right now.
“What’s with you?” she asked with a teasing note in her voice.
“Horseshoe Home Ranch is up for sale,” he said w
ith a cat-ate-the-canary grin. “I’m gonna buy it.”
Chapter 14
River blinked at Ty, her mind a jumbled mess. Such a jumbled mess, her brain couldn’t send anything to her vocal chords.
Police sirens wailed in the distance, probably down by the elementary school where the parade began. River focused on the sound for several seconds, her thoughts finally organizing themselves.
“You’re going to buy the ranch?” River’s fingers tightened around Ty’s. “I didn’t realize…. Well, I don’t know what I didn’t realize.”
A darkness River didn’t understand and rarely saw danced across Ty’s features. “I can’t be a cowboy forever,” he grumbled.
She leaned closer, sensing this conversation probably shouldn’t be had in front of every cowboy currently employed at the ranch. “If you buy the ranch, you most certainly can.”
His jaw clenched; his eyes blazed; his shoulders stiffened. “Exactly.”
Before she could comprehend what that single word meant, Hannah squealed, stealing River’s attention to the street. The street, which Hannah was now running toward as fast as her three-year-old legs would carry her.
“Hannah!” River bolted from her chair, all thoughts of Ty buying a century-old ranch forgotten. Her daughter nearly fell flat on her face as she stepped off the curb in her haste to get to the candy the high school mascot—a life-sized tiger—had thrown in their direction.
Hannah’s chubby fist had just closed around a piece of saltwater taffy—seriously not worth the effort of even getting up—when River reached her. Children’s bodies jostled her as they pounced on the candy like ravenous lions on fresh meat.
River scooped Hannah away from the fray, her heart bobbing in the back of her throat. “You don’t just run into the street,” River said in a stern voice. “You scared Mommy.”