The Cowboy’s Second Chance

As president of the Lone Star Cowboy League, rancher Carson Thorn is committed to serving his community of Little Horn. But when high school sweetheart Ruby Donovan returns, his steadfast pledge is tested. Ruby left town twelve years ago—stealing money from his father and breaking Carson’s heart in her wake. Now she’s asking for his trust—just as her brother becomes Carson’s prime suspect in the rash of recent ranch thefts. Carson is torn. His town is depending on him for justice, but one look in Ruby’s eyes has him questioning everything he thought he knew—about truth, about love and about the wisdom of second chances…

“Carson, this isn’t going to happen.”

“A ride isn’t going to happen? Or dinner?”

“No, this,” she said, pointing from him to herself and back to him. “We are not going to happen.”

“Right, of course we aren’t.” He walked around her horse and was suddenly at her side. “I’m asking you to go for a ride. An hour or two of relaxation, not worrying about all the stuff piling up on us. I could use that break.”

She closed her eyes and prayed for strength. “Carson.”

When she opened her eyes he was still in front of her, his smile a little bit sweet and a little bit rakish. “Yes?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Simple. We have unfinished business, Ruby. You left and I’ve spent a lot of years wondering why.”

“Because I wasn’t good for you,” she whispered. “We were young and making decisions that would have…”

“Changed everything?” he asked. “Because I’ve thought about that a lot over the years. My life would have been different if you’d been in it.”

“Mine, too,” she admitted.

* * *

Lone Star Cowboy League:

Bighearted ranchers in small-town Texas

A Reunion for the Rancher by Brenda Minton, October 2015

A Doctor for the Nanny by Leigh Bale, November 2015

A Ranger for the Holidays by Allie Pleiter, December 2015

A Family for the Soldier by Carolyne Aarsen, January 2016

A Daddy for Her Triplets by Deb Kastner, February 2016

A Baby for the Rancher by Margaret Daley, March 2016

BRENDA MINTON lives in the Ozarks with her husband, children, cats, dogs and strays. She is a pastor’s wife, Sunday school teacher, coffee addict and sleep-deprived. Not in that order. Her dream to be an author for Mills & Boon started somewhere in the pages of a romance novel about a young American woman stranded in a Spanish castle. Her dreams came true, and twenty-plus books later, she is an author hoping to inspire young girls to dream.

A Reunion for the Rancher

Brenda Minton

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.

—Jeremiah 29:11

To my kids

To Josh and Brooke,

for the love you share now and the love that will continue to grow between you. I love you both.

Luke, I love you and I’m dedicating a book to you.

Hanna, you are beautiful and talented and I love you.

Special thanks and acknowledgment to Brenda Minton for her contribution to the Lone Star Cowboy League miniseries.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Acknowledgment

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Carson Thorn parked his truck in front of the rock-sided building that housed offices of the Little Horn, Texas, chapter of the Lone Star Cowboy League. As distracted as he was, he couldn’t help but think about the history of the century-old group. It had started as a service organization, serving communities and ranchers across the state. Today it felt more like the last line of defense for ranchers who were being hit hard by thieves. The cattle rustling had started a month ago and showed no signs of letting up.

At today’s meeting the other members were expecting answers. They wanted him to come up with solutions. He wished he had some. And he wished he was anywhere else on a Thursday in October than in town at this meeting.

He grabbed his briefcase and locked his truck. As he did, he noticed a white sedan pull into another parking space. He didn’t stop to see who it might be. He had paperwork to hand over to the league secretary, and Byron McKay, one of the biggest ranchers in the state, was waiting to talk to him. That wasn’t a conversation Carson looked forward to. He never looked forward to talking to Byron. Knowing that Byron’s ranch had recently been hit by the thieves, Carson knew the conversation wouldn’t be pleasant. This was one of those days when he wished he could live in a community and not be involved.

Someone must have been looking out for him, giving him one thing to be thankful for. Ingrid Edwards, the league secretary, wasn’t at her desk. He sighed with relief. One bullet dodged. Now he just had to face Byron. The older man was already seated in the boardroom, a stack of papers in front of him.

“Byron.” Carson pulled off the sport coat he’d worn and tossed it on the back of his chair. He rolled up his sleeves and then poured himself a glass of water.

“This has to be stopped, Carson.” Byron pushed himself out of his chair and shed his own jacket. The rancher, a little paunchy and with thinning, strawberry blond hair, managed to knock over his own water glass.

Carson tossed him a roll of paper towels. He wasn’t playing maid to anyone, not even a McKay. He cringed, thinking of Byron’s offspring, twin teenaged boys who were sure to be chips off the old block someday.

He gave the other man a careful look, not wanting to wade too far in.

“I’m aware that it has to stop, Byron. I’m not sure what you want me personally to do about it. Do you want me on patrol? Do you want me to guard your livestock?”

“We need a plan. And maybe some of us do need to patrol. Lucy Benson is a great sheriff, but I’m not sure she’s up to snuff on this case.”

“Lucy is just fine.” Carson sat down in his chair at the end of the table. Times like this he’d like it if someone else was the local chapter president.

“Well, I for one think that Derek Donovan should be questioned.”

“Why do you think that?” Carson asked the question, but he knew the answer.

“Because he got out of prison and that’s when all of this started.” McKay slammed his meaty fist on the top of the table.

“Stop blaming my grandson,” a shaky voice said from the open door.

Carson rubbed a hand over his face and groaned. “Iva.”

“Yes, Iva.” The older woman pushed her walker into the room. “I’m still a member, Carson Thorn, and don’t you forget that.”

“No one is forgetting.” Carson stood and went to her side to pull out a chair for her. She was nearing eighty, and in the past few months, Parkinson’s had started to take a toll on her health. But Iva wasn’t letting it stop her, not until she didn’t have a say in the matter.

She waved him away, not taking the offered chair. “I’m not feeling the best, so I’m not staying for the meeting. I just wanted to confront you all and tell you this neighbor-blaming-neighbor business has to stop.”

Byron McKay faced the woman, his tone only slightly more gentle. “I’ve lost more cattle and equipment, Iva. My boys lost a couple of dirt bikes. This thief knows us and knows our ranches.”

Iva shook her head and raised a frail hand that jerked as she pointed an unsteady finger at the rancher. Her arm trembled as she tried to steady the gesture, adding a fierce glare that had Carson smiling. No one could beat down Iva Donovan. Even with her failing health she was a force to be reckoned with.

“Watch how you talk about my family, you bully in a Stetson.”

“I’m not running you down, Iva. You’ve had it tough and none of us blames you.”

“If you blame my kin, you blame me.” She shook her head at the chair Carson offered. “My grandson made mistakes and paid for those crimes. I’ll not have you pointing fingers at him.”

“Iva, you know we have to look at everyone in a situation like this,” Carson said, hoping he sounded diplomatic and not as suspicious as he really felt.

“We don’t have to start accusing our neighbors or searching their homes and farms,” Iva argued. She rested heavily on the walker as she looked from Carson to the other members who were trickling in. “Don’t come to my place again unless you have real evidence.”

Carson shot Byron McKay a warning look that silenced him. “Iva, unless they have a reason, they won’t search your place.”

“They don’t have a reason,” Iva insisted with a growl. “And you aren’t going to harass my family.”

“No, Iva, we won’t do that.” Carson took charge because he could see Iva weakening as her anger took over. She’d always been a spitfire and having Parkinson’s hadn’t taken any of her orneriness away, just her energy. “We’ve got the police on this and our own investigation team. We’re putting up surveillance cameras. We’ll figure out who’s responsible.”

“I hope you do,” she said a little more calmly. “Now I have to go, so you all continue on without me.”

“Let me walk you out to your car,” he offered.

“Hey, we still have things to discuss. You’re the chapter president and you can’t just walk out, Carson,” Byron McKay bellowed.

“Byron, relax. I’m walking Iva to her car and I’ll be back.” Carson reached for the door, and Iva smiled up at him. Her blue eyes were faded and rimmed with red, but she winked and he saw that spunk that had gotten her through some tough times.

“Byron McKay has more bluster than sense,” Iva snipped as they walked out of the meeting room.

“He does tend to go on.” He helped Iva through the main room and headed her toward the doors.

He nodded at Ingrid Edwards, once again behind her desk. She was shuffling through a drawer but she smiled up at him, her glasses sliding down her nose and red hair coming loose from a clip that held it to the top of her head. She winked and he wasn’t quite sure what to do.

Last week she’d brought him fried chicken. The week before that, brownies. Ingrid was on the prowl, looking for a husband before she turned twenty-six. Or so the rumor went. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but she’d have to look elsewhere. He was thirty-one and had no intention of settling down.

“It isn’t my Derek,” Iva muttered as they headed for the front door. “I know you think you know him, Carson Thorn, but you don’t. He’s a changed boy.”

“He’s almost twenty, Iva. That’s not really a boy.”

“He’s still my boy and I won’t let you or anyone else run him down. I appreciate what you’ve done over the years, but when it comes to family, I draw the line.”

“As you should.”

She stopped just feet short of the door, leaning heavily on the walker. She studied him with those blue eyes of hers. “I’ve always appreciated your help.”

“My help?”

“The lawyer, for Derek.”

He cleared his throat and glanced out the door, hoping to avoid a conversation he didn’t want to have. But she wouldn’t let it go.

“Johnny Mac fixing my truck,” Iva continued. “And that beef in my fridge.”

“We should go. I need to get in there before Byron and the others really do form a posse like they’ve been discussing. We can’t have them riding off on horses, guns blazing.”

She laughed a gravely sounding laugh. “Your daddy was made of the same cloth as that Byron McKay. You’re a different breed. Don’t be like them.”

“I try not to be.”

“You ain’t been to church in a good long while.”

He should have known it would come back to that. “I’ve been busy.”

“Oh, land’s sakes, don’t give me that. I’m not sure what burr got under your saddle, but it isn’t so big that God can’t fix it.”

He smiled and shook his head. “I know He’s capable. But there’s no burr, just a busy life.”

“Help me to my car, then.”

They were on the sidewalk heading for the old Buick Iva drove. And that’s when he saw Ruby Donovan. She stood in front of the white car dressed in shorts, canvas sneakers and a T-shirt. Her auburn hair lifted slightly in the breeze and she pushed it back and held it with her hand as she watched him approach. Seeing her like that took him back to the first time he’d seen her. She’d been fifteen. He’d been seventeen. She’d just gotten off some crazy ride at the county fair. She’d been laughing at something her friend had said and walking toward the Ferris wheel.

Today felt a lot like that moment when they’d met. And nothing like that moment. Today when she looked at him her hazel eyes didn’t sparkle. Her mouth didn’t form that generous smile. No, she glared. He felt more than a little edgy seeing her up close and in person for the first time in twelve years.

One of these days he’d like to get an answer from her. He’d like to know what he’d done to deserve her walking away without even saying goodbye. He’d like to know how she’d gone from wanting to spend a life together to wanting nothing more than a free ride to college, compliments of his father.

But maybe it was better if he didn’t know.

* * *

Ruby sucked in a breath and tried to pretend her heart wasn’t tripping all over itself the way it had always tripped when she saw Carson Thorn. She’d managed to avoid him for a dozen years. That hadn’t been easy considering he lived just down the road from her grandmother. But somehow on her odd trips home she’d managed.

But seeing him, the tall rancher with the dark brown hair and brown eyes that a girl could get lost in, was like going back. It was like being in love again. And she wasn’t in love. He was no longer that boy, and she was no longer an impressionable teenage girl who believed in happy-ever-after.

It was this man who had taken those dreams from her. This man and his family. Until she’d met the Thorns she had always been good enough.

To see him helping her Gran to the car, that sizzled down deep where the red in her hair lived waiting to be unleashed.

She stepped forward, ignoring the confused look on his face. She ignored expensive cologne that smelled like the mountains and the ocean and everything good in between. She tried, desperately, to ignore the fact that the air seemed too thick to breathe when he was in her space. The need for oxygen meant she had to get him gone as quickly as possible.

“Thank you, Carson. I’ll help her to the car.”

“Be nice, Ruby Jo,” Iva warned.

“I’m being nice.” Ruby stepped close to help her grandmother off the sidewalk.

Iva leaned in. “No, you’re showing your claws. You have no idea, Ruby.”

“I have ideas.” She looked back. Carson was still there, watching them.

Her younger brother, Derek, was nowhere to be found. He’d said something about errands to run and he’d get a ride home. She didn’t like when he disappeared. She trusted him, but since cattle had started disappearing just a little too close to the time Derek had been released from prison, she knew he was going to continue to be a suspect until someone was caught.

These days everyone was a suspect.

She was surprised no one had tried to blame her since she’d arrived back in town only a few weeks ago.

Carson interrupted her thoughts, and that was too bad because she’d been trying to block him from her mind and her memories. He stepped past her and opened the car door.

Once Iva was situated, Ruby took her purse out of the walker and folded the contraption up to store it in the trunk of the car. She turned, and Carson Thorn was there. Without a word, he took the walker from her hands. If she’d trusted herself to speak, she would have told him that she could take care of things herself.

Funny that his name was Thorn, because he was a real thorn in her side. A thorn she’d prayed like the apostle Paul that God would remove from her. She’d tried to pray away his memory. And now? She didn’t need him lurking, being kind, respectful. She needed him to go away and not be a reminder of everything she’d lost and why she’d left Little Horn.

If it hadn’t been for Iva and Derek, she would have stayed in Oklahoma, and then she wouldn’t have had this issue to deal with. But she was home. And they did need her here. Her grandmother needed her.

“Is that frown for me?”

What should she say to that? She could say, of course it wasn’t. Or she could admit that it was. “I didn’t realize I was frowning.”

He leaned against the back of the car, long legs in new jeans and those expensive boots of his. The walker was still in his hands.

“You were definitely frowning.”

“I should have sold the ranch and convinced Gran and Derek to move to Oklahoma with me,” she admitted without intending to.

“What would have been the fun in that? You’re not a city girl, Ruby. You were born and raised in Hill Country, and you can’t outrun it.”

“I’ve been living in the city a long time, and I’m adaptable.”

His smile faded. “Yes, I guess you are.”

She wondered about that smile, why he acted as if it was all about him. She wondered if he had any clue how much his dad and sister had hurt her. How much he’d hurt her? It wasn’t as if she’d wanted to stay gone from her home. She’d stayed gone because she hadn’t been able to imagine seeing him with someone else. She was only back because Gran’s health had deteriorated and someone had to look out for Derek.

“Listen, we don’t have to do this. When we see each other, we don’t have to get tugged back into the past. It was a long time ago and I’m over it. I’m sure you’re over it since...” She shook her head. She wasn’t going there. “I have work to do.”

He stepped away from the back of the car and pointed, indicating she should open the trunk. When she did, he lifted the walker and stowed it inside. “There you go. Is there anything else you need help with?”

She stared up at the tall, overpowering rancher, surprised by the offer. She tried to see the boy she’d known in the face of this ruggedly handsome stranger. The features were stronger, more defined, more...everything. His eyes were shuttered against emotion. But she saw a flicker, maybe a hint of warmth.

“I don’t need help. We’ve always gotten along just fine.”

“Did you put up the surveillance cameras the league handed out?”

“I have them in a box. I haven’t had a chance to take them out, and I don’t know if I can do it myself.”

“I can help you put them up.”

She wondered if her mouth had dropped when he made that offer. Purposefully, she clamped her lips and shook her head. “I’ll read the directions and do it myself,” she insisted. Yes, she knew the only difference between her and a stubborn five-year-old was the lack of a foot stomp on her part.

“I was trying to help.”

“I know. And I really do appreciate that. But I can take care of things. Derek will help me.” She put a finger up and wagged it in his face. “Don’t say it.”

He grinned and suddenly the tension in the air melted just a little. “I won’t say it. But if you change your mind, let me know.”

“I will.” She took a few steps away from him, feeling better with the solid metal of the sedan between them.

“It’s been nice talking to you, Ruby.”

With that, he walked away.

“Yes, nice talking to you.” Nice going back in time and revisiting heartache. And the other leftover emotions. The ones that should have been long gone— feelings she hadn’t expected to surface after so many years. Ruby stood there for too long, and a car honked. She stepped out of the way, waving absently at the car pulling into the parking space next to hers.

She opened the door of the sedan and climbed in behind the wheel. She glanced at her passenger, and Iva pretended not to be grinning.

“Gran, do not get that look on your face. Carson Thorn is twelve years in my past. I can do without him and without his daddy’s money.”

“His daddy has been gone a few years, honey.”

“Yes, I know that.”

“And you have to think about forgiving, because hanging on to all that resentment isn’t good for a soul. While you’re at it, forgive his sister.”

She started the Buick and glanced quickly at her granny before shifting the car into Reverse. “How do you know about Jenna?”

“As if there are any secrets in this town. You didn’t want to tell me, but I heard that she said some things about you not being the right woman for her brother and that he’d found someone in college that would make him a perfect wife. A woman who didn’t buy her clothes at the thrift store.”

“I didn’t want you to know. It would have...”

“Hurt me? No, not at all. We did the best we could, and there’s no shame in buying clothes secondhand. It’s called being good stewards of what God gives us.”

She swiped at the tear trickling down her cheek and reached for her grandmother’s hand. “You are so important to me.”

“I know.” Iva grinned and squeezed her hand. “Now, let’s get on out to the house, and you try to stop thinking about Carson Thorn.”

Stop thinking about Carson. Of course. She would just put his memory aside. She would forget summer days at the lake, two kids in love planning their future, the house they would build, the horses they would raise together.

They’d been kids planning a way to conquer the world and their own pasts.

His past: the death of his mom in his early teens and a dad who wouldn’t accept anything less than perfection.

Her past: the loss of her mom and then her dad. There had been a lot of dysfunction before they’d been turned over to their granny Iva to raise.

Life had brought her full circle, back to Little Horn, back to Iva and Derek. She would try to start a new life in Little Horn, working with kids, giving riding lessons and maybe rebuilding the farm.

Carson Thorn wouldn’t even cross her mind. Not if she stayed busy, stayed clear of town and never stepped foot off the ranch. If she had no social life and no friends, she would never bump into him.

“I wonder why he never married?” The question slipped out, totally unintended. “You know, the woman he met. Did he ever bring her around?”

Iva shot her a knowing look. “You know, for years you haven’t let me mention him. Why all of the questions now?”

“Just curious.”

“I never saw him with another woman, Ruby. He’s worked the ranch, tried to keep that sister of his out of trouble and he’s done his best for the town.”

Ruby shrugged it off. “Not that I care.”

“Of course you don’t.”

“I do not care.” Ruby turned on to the driveway that led to the Donovan ranch. A long driveway with sagging fences running along both sides. At the end of the drive sat a white farm house and a sagging barn to match those fences.

When she looked at her home she saw work that should have been done years ago. She saw neglect.

She should have come home more often. She should have ignored her grandmother’s claims that everything was fine. Somehow she’d convinced herself that the money she sent home was needed more than her presence. Random weekends home hadn’t been enough to keep things going, though.

“Stop beating yourself up, Ruby.” Iva reached to open her door, but she paused to give Ruby a sharp look. “It was my choice to let Slim go. I just couldn’t see paying him anymore. And it was me who told you that we could get by.”

“I should have come home.” Ruby let her gaze slide over the landscape, the fields dotted with a few head of cattle, the hills in the distance and the blue, blue sky rising above it. “I love this place.”

And she’d let heartache keep her from it, from the people she loved and the life she loved. But she was back now, and she would make this ranch profitable again.

She hoped it wasn’t too little, too late, because she wouldn’t run again. She would face the past and face Carson Thorn. Even if it hurt.

Chapter Two

As much as Carson loved living on this ranch in Texas Hill Country, some mornings he’d just as soon put it on the market and move to the city. Or to another country. This was one of those mornings. He’d been up since well before daybreak, and he’d heard nothing but problems and complaints since he set foot in the barn.

The hay they’d bought from Iowa hadn’t showed up, there was an outbreak of pinkeye and someone really needed to do something about the wild hogs that were tearing up a section of field at the back of the property where the hills were steep and a creek supplied water. Carson poured himself a cup of coffee, raised a hand to the young kid about to ask what he needed to do, since it was his second day on the job, and walked out the back of the barn to watch the sun come up over an autumn landscape.

He sighed as he sipped about the worst coffee in history. For a brief moment he could forget wild hogs, pinkeye, drought and cattle thieves. For that moment, as he watched the sun come up, he knew God existed and he knew that as bad as things could look, somehow they always worked out in the end. For a man who sometimes felt as far from God as he could get, maybe that was getting somewhere.

The door creaked open. He sighed and turned to face that kid again. Ron? No. Rolland? Rick.

“Can I help you, Rick?”

“I just thought I should tell you that gray mare of yours looks like she’s got a tendon problem. I’ve doctored her the best I could, but I think she might need a vet. And...” The kid let out a breath as if that was how he filled himself with courage. “Someone got into the trophy case. This back door was open when I got here.”

“Trophy case?” Why would anyone want trophies that were thirty years old?

“There are a few empty spaces and some belt buckles missing.” Rick cleared his throat on that news. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll take a look. I can’t imagine anything of value. Just dusty old trophies. Keepsakes, mostly.”

“Maybe the silver?”

“I guess a few of them might have silver.” He followed Rick inside. “Did Larry and Gayla show up to take that gelding and the other mare to the show in Houston?”

“Yes, sir. They left last night. Larry wanted to get them there a few days early, give them time to settle in before the event.”

That’s why Larry was his trainer. The couple was invaluable. They trained, they were able to hit shows and rodeos he couldn’t, and they were dependable.

Rick, just eighteen, tall and wiry with a shock of wheat-colored hair, led him to the tack and trophy room. He pointed to the trophy case, his face a little pale. Carson stepped close, surveying the loss. It wasn’t much, a few trophies, mostly sentimental. Why would anyone want trophies? He shook his head. And then he noticed that his mom’s trophy, won at a national finals event, was gone. He hadn’t paid much attention over the years, but he didn’t want that piece of his history gone.

And why would anyone want it? The only thing he could think was that someone wanted to mess with him, maybe show him they could take what they wanted. They’d made it personal, taking those trophies.

He walked out, left that room, left the barn and headed for the house. Rick didn’t follow him. Fortunately no one asked where he was going. He didn’t really know.

His gaze settled on the house, a museum of a place in Georgian architecture that his grandfather had built. Columned porticos extended from each side of the house, those massive porches devoid of warmth or furnishings. Rose gardens ran wild because he didn’t really care. It was the one thing he’d let go, those flower gardens. They represented his only rebellion against his father’s legacy.

Carson took care of business. He took care of the ranch. He maintained the family reputation and standing in the community. He didn’t like roses, so if something had to be neglected on a ranch this size it was going to be the flowers.

As he climbed the steps of the front porch a car shot up the driveway, coming to a quick stop in front of the detached garage. He nearly groaned when he saw who it was. His sister, Jenna, five years his junior, and never one to take the family name seriously, jumped out of her little car and reached in the backseat. When she emerged she had her son by the hand. They were both dark haired and dark eyed, and the little boy looked tired.

Jenna looked on the verge of some kind of breakdown.

“Here.” She pushed her son’s hand into his.

“What?”

“I can’t do this. I need a break. Just a few days.”

“He isn’t a...” Carson looked down at the little guy and bit back every foul word he wanted to say to his sister. Her child wasn’t a puppy. He wasn’t something you handed off, like secondhand toys or clothing. He was a person with feelings.

And little feet that shifted back and forth as the boy squirmed and looked increasingly more uncomfortable.

“Head for the bathroom, Brandon.” Carson opened the door for the five-year-old. The little boy shot past him and into the house.

“He’s out of control,” Jenna informed Carson. As if that was his fault. He considered telling his sister that her son wasn’t out of control. She was.

“I’m not the one dragging him from town to town and from relationship to relationship, Jenna. That’s on you. Stay here, be a mom and take care of your son.”

“Don’t judge me.”

He groaned. “Why is it when people are messing up and someone points it out to them, they always fall back on judgment? I’m not judging you. I’m telling you the truth.”

“Carson, I just need a few days. I need a break.”

“You’re a mom, Jenna. I don’t think you get to walk away from that.”

“I’m not walking away. I just need for you to do this for me. Just this once. I promise when I come back I’ll do better. I’ll get my act together.”

“I think you should definitely get your act together. But stay here and do it. Don’t walk away.”

Tears were streaming down her face, and Carson took a step toward her. She shook her head.

“Carson, I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know why everything is going wrong and I can’t seem to make it right. I can’t be the mom Brandon needs. I’ve never been a good wife. I’m just empty. I have to go.”

“No.” Carson reached for her hand, but she evaded and headed down the steps.

“I’ll be back soon. I promise,” she called out as she got in her car.

He would have gone after her, but Brandon came out of the house, wide-eyed and mouth agape. When the little guy looked as if he was about to run after the car, Carson snatched him up.

Together they watched the little red car speed down the driveway.

“So, Brandon, have you had breakfast?” He didn’t know what else to say.

Or what else to do. He didn’t know what to do with a kid. He didn’t know how long it would take his sister to get her head on straight. Days? Weeks?

Brandon sniffled and a few tears slipped down his cheeks. “I spilled the milk last night, and there wasn’t anything to eat this morning.”

Carson pulled the door open and marched his nephew inside. First things first: food.

As he rummaged around looking for kid-friendly food, he thought about Jenna. His sister had seemed lost for years. Their mom’s death had rocked their family, but maybe it had been hardest on a girl just about to enter her teens. When he looked back he realized she’d always drifted. She’d gone from relationship to relationship. She’d never quite found herself. And now Brandon was suffering for it.

He found cereal in the cabinet that hadn’t been opened. It looked like the kind full of sugar and obviously what a boy would most want for breakfast. He poured a bowl for Brandon, then poured one for himself.

As soon as he got Brandon settled at the table with breakfast he needed to call in the theft of the trophies. It didn’t amount to much, but they needed every theft on record.

He thought about how he would question Ruby Donovan and her brother without really appearing to blame the younger man. Because everyone was a suspect at this point. He wouldn’t doubt if some people in town were putting his name on a list.

As he contemplated, something crashed. A shriek followed. He hadn’t been watching Brandon. He turned in time to see the curtain rod over the French doors come crashing down. The curtains fell, the picture frames on the wall to the left of the door shattered and glass flew everywhere.

Brandon was in the middle of the mess on an overturned chair.

“What in the world?” Carson lifted the boy out of the mess.

“I was going to try and get that spider.” Brandon pointed.

Carson groaned and shook his head. He had to find something to do with a five-year-old until Jenna came to her senses. But first they needed breakfast and a trip to the Donovans’.

* * *

Ruby walked down to the old barn that had been on her family farm since almost the beginning. And it looked every bit of its almost one hundred years. The weathered, wood-sided structure leaned a little from time, from wind and rain, but it was sturdy.

There were a few stalls inside, a hayloft in the top of the barn and a good corral. It was perfect for the business she wanted to start: teaching young children to ride. It wouldn’t bring in a lot of money, but until she could buy more livestock to replenish what had been sold off over the past few years and get a job, it would have to do.

Derek joined her, looking over the barn with the same critical eye she’d used moments earlier. He brushed a hand through his dark chestnut hair. The sun captured just the slightest hint of red. He was tall and thin, too thin. He had her hazel eyes but with darker, thicker lashes. He looked like their dad. And it worried her that sometimes he acted like Earl Donovan. Restless. Their dad had always been restless. He’d been a cowboy, a saddle bronc rider and an alcoholic.

“How can I help?” Derek asked. This was the new Derek, the kid who wasn’t quite twenty but wanted to change his life. She didn’t credit prison with that change; she credited his newfound faith.

People might doubt that faith. She didn’t. It was no jailhouse conversion.

“There isn’t a lot we can do,” she admitted. “I have to get students. So far I have three. That isn’t even going to pay the feed bill. I need ten a week. Even that isn’t a living.”

“We’ve got a dozen steers we can take to the auction next month. By then they should bring enough to keep us solvent for a little while. And I’m going to get a job at the steakhouse washing dishes.”

She closed her eyes at the revelation. “Thank you.”

“It’s my farm and my family, too. Sometimes you forget that, Ruby. It isn’t all on you.”

She leaned into his shoulder, and he patted her back before moving away. She smiled, because he’d never enjoyed her displays of sisterly affection. “I’m proud of you, Derek.”

“And I’m not going to let you down. I’m almost twenty. It’s time for me to get my head on straight and figure some things out.”

“Yes, well, I’m nine years older than you and I can say the same about my life.”

“You had a career, sis, and you gave it up to come home and help out. You’ll get another job.”

“You’re right. I will. I really hope I can get on with the state. I’m just not sure I want to continue being a caseworker.”

He walked with her to the field where a half dozen ponies and small horses grazed on grass that was brown. The animals were all colors, all sizes. But they were gentle and well broke.

“There was another theft last night,” Derek said as he leaned against the wood fence. “You know they’re going to come here, right?”

“I know.”

Four head of cattle from a farm that ran hundreds of head. Why just four? The thieves were being careful? Or maybe unsure of how to dispose of the animals?

From what she’d heard they were hitting farms that had recently purchased animals, so the cattle weren’t yet branded. That was smart on their part and meant the thieves knew the ranches.

A truck pulled up to the house. Ruby glanced in that direction and groaned. “Why?”

“Because the guy still has a thing for you?” Derek said with a grin.

“I think that’s the furthest thing from the truth.” She watched as Carson Thorn got out of his truck, and then she watched as he stood there waiting for something. Or someone.

She saw the someone. A little boy with dark hair and the same confident swagger as Carson. The two headed her way, discussing something that appeared to be of major importance if the serious look on their faces meant anything. Carson shook his head. The little boy frowned. Carson looked away but not before she saw his lips turn in amusement.

“Carson,” she greeted with her best formal tone. All business. That was how she wanted to keep him, in the category of the past, and business.

“Ruby,” he said, tipping his hat.

“And this is?” She knelt in front of the child. “That’s a great hat.”

The miniature Carson pushed his white cowboy hat back and gave her a careful look before nodding in the direction of the horses. “I’m Brandon. Are those your ponies?”

“Yes, they are.”

“My mom says I’m about big enough to start riding.” His gaze shifted to Derek. “Wow, that belt buckle is cool.”

She glanced up and saw the buckle in question. The one their father had won for a national championship. A belt buckle she’d told Derek to get rid of. He could sell it. He could give it away. She didn’t care. But she did care that he held on to the past and to his hero worship of their father.

Derek shot her a look telling her to mind her own business.

“Thanks.” Derek glanced toward the ponies. “Want to check them out? Carson can list all the reasons why I’m...”

Derek stopped himself with a warning look from Ruby. The last thing they needed was for Derek to antagonize Carson Thorn.

The little boy looked at him, waiting expectantly for him to finish what he planned to say.

“Carson can tell you why I’m the best person to teach you to rope,” Derek finished with a grin.

Ruby watched her brother walk away with the child. She looked back at Carson, watched him watching the two—one tall and lanky, the other small and confident. She hated that looking at Carson brought it all back—the hope, the laughter. The dreams.

The heartache.

Smoke and mirrors, she realized now. It had all been an illusion. The smoke cleared and she’d seen reality the day Carson’s dad had handed her a check and told her to go to college, be someone, but not to count on being a Thorn.

“Did you put up the cameras?” Carson asked as he continued to watch Derek with the child. They had retrieved a rope from the barn. Derek was showing the little boy how it worked and then letting him give it a shot. The lasso flew through the air and fell to the ground short of the target—the fence post.

“No. I have to wait until I can pay an electrician. And why are you really here? The cattle stolen last night?”

“No.”

“Something else?”

“He’s my nephew. Jenna’s son,” Carson said, watching the little boy climb the fence and reach for a buckskin pony the color of wheat.

That wasn’t really an answer to her question. She considered pushing, but why? His answer would probably just upset her. Not only that, but she’d latched on to another issue that proved she couldn’t be in Little Horn and not get all tangled up in the past.

“Is Jenna in town?” Silly question. If her son was in town, she was in town.

“No,” he answered, his firm lips held in a straight and unforgiving line. “She showed up early this morning and dropped him off. I’m not quite sure what to do with him.”

“How long do you think you’ll have him?”

He rubbed a hand across his jaw and shook his head. “I don’t have a clue. She said a few days, but I’m a little worried.”

“About her?” She shouldn’t care. She shouldn’t delve into his life or the uncertainty in his expression.

“Yes. But I’ll call her later and see what we can figure out.”

“If she’s leaving him for any length of time, he should probably be in school.”

His eyes narrowed and he looked down at her. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead. She took me by surprise.”

“Ambushed.” She grinned as she said it.

“Something like that.”

“You’ll have to enroll him if she doesn’t come back.”

He nodded but his gaze had drifted back to the boy. “Once I can talk to her and get more out of her than she needs time, I’ll do what I have to do. What are the ponies for?”

“Riding lessons.”

He nodded yet again and headed that way, toward the horses, her brother, his nephew. She followed.

“Where are the security cameras?” he asked as he stopped to watch Derek lift his nephew over the fence and to the ground.

“In the back of my truck,” Ruby answered. “Derek, could you get a saddle for the buckskin?”

Derek let a shoulder rise and fall. “Sure. Brandon, let me lift you back over the fence.”

Brandon shook his head. “I can do it.”

Sure enough he climbed the fence, dropping to the ground next to his uncle. His very solemn uncle, who watched him as if he was some type of alien creature. She guessed to Carson the child was foreign and strange.

He was a child. Carson had probably never been a child. Even as a teenager he’d been older than his years. She imagined as a boy he’d been just as serious.

“Which saddle?” Derek asked as he headed to the barn.

“I only have three. Grab the one you think will work best.”

“What are you doing?” Carson asked.

“Giving your nephew a free riding lesson. And then you can tell everyone what a great time he had.”

“Can I?” he asked.

“Please,” she added. And he smiled, shifting the seriousness from his features, relaxing just enough to make him look younger, less controlled. More like himself.

“It would be a decent thing to do,” Derek added.

“Yes, it would,” Carson agreed. His careful gaze lingered on the six horses in varied sizes from pony to small horse.

After a cautious look at the two of them, Derek walked away, taking his new friend with him. Ruby was left to deal with Carson and leftover emotions that should have been put to rest years ago.

It wouldn’t help to look at him, to look into brown eyes that were at once serious and warm. It wouldn’t help to think about how it had felt to stand this close to him at seventeen, thinking they would always be together.

What helped was thinking about how it felt to leave thinking he might come after her, that he might still want her once he realized how much she’d given up for him.

He hadn’t come looking for her. She’d done her best to forget.

Chapter Three

“Do you have a ladder?” Carson shifted his attention away from the horses, away from watching Derek Donovan as he saddled a small buckskin pony.

Ruby started at the question, her eyes widening. She shook her head and then it must have dawned on her what he’d asked.

“Of course.”

“You give Brandon the riding lesson and I’ll install your security cameras. I’ll wire them in here with the light. Send Derek over to help me.”

She chewed on her bottom lip, studying him, thinking, he was sure, about the past. He didn’t have time for the past.

“I’m trying to help you out.”

“I get that,” she answered, still looking unsure. “I know you want to help. I also know you’re here to question my brother. So it doesn’t make sense to wire cameras if you all think he’s the thief. We don’t have much to steal, and he isn’t going to steal from his own family.”

“I just think he ought to be ready to tell people where he was last night.”

Her eyes narrowed and she exhaled. Her cheeks flushed pink, and her eyes glittered with anger and unshed tears. “And sometimes I think you’re about to be nice. But then you’re not. If you must know, we took Gran to the ER.”

“I’m sorry.” And he meant it. Man, he really meant it. He was sorry he’d asked the question. He was sorry Iva was sick. He was sorry that this woman had taken his dad’s money over what he thought they’d shared.

But maybe at nineteen he hadn’t really understood what they’d shared. He’d been a kid. She’d been a kid. Maybe his dad had been right; they were rushing into things too young.

“Is Iva okay?” he asked, going for the topic that made sense.

“She’s good. They changed her medication and she got a little light-headed.”

“I see. You know,” he started to offer help, but pulled back the reins on emotions that could get the best of him. “If Derek wants to help, I can show him how to do this, and next time he can take care of it.”

She nodded, but she didn’t look like someone about to accept his offer. She’d told him years ago it was easier to do it herself than to count on someone and be let down. She’d been young, determined to take care of her family, determined to do something with her life.

Her determination had been everything to him. Because she’d been determined to make him laugh, to make him forget expectations that everyone had for him.

When she nodded, accepting his offer, it took him by surprise.

“The ladder is in the storage room in the barn. I’ll get the cameras for you.” She started to walk away. He stopped her by reaching for her arm and holding her in one place for that brief moment.

“We’re neighbors. You know to call if you need anything.”

She pulled free. “Yes, of course.”

With that she walked away. He watched her go through the gate, joining Derek and Brandon. The wind blew her hair and she brushed it back. He saw her smile at Brandon, say something that had the kid grinning big. She ruffled his hair and they both laughed.

Derek left her side and headed toward the barn. Carson walked through the open door. Inside the dim interior he found the ladder, found tools that he’d need, and then Derek was there, watching.

“She’s a good person, you know.” Derek stood tall, shoulders back. He’d grown since those days when Carson and Ruby had dated. He’d been about seven or so, and he’d wanted to tag along, sharing information about bugs he’d seen and cool cartoons he’d watched.

“I know she is,” Carson admitted. “Want to help me out?”

“Sure, I’ll help you out. And I’ll give you advice. The first time you hurt her, I was a kid. I’m not a kid anymore.”

“I get that.” Carson carried the ladder past Derek. He got what the other man was saying, but he would like to know how her walking out on him had become his fault.

He didn’t plan on having that conversation with her brother. Instead, he set the ladder up against the side of the barn.

“Want to give me a hand?” he asked as he climbed the ladder.

Derek flashed a big grin and pushed back his hat. “Sure. You climb on up and I’ll push the ladder over.”

“That isn’t exactly what I meant. Hand me the first camera and wire nuts. I’m going to...”

Derek started to do just that but both of their gazes landed on the car coming up the drive.

“Great. That’s just what we need, more law.” Derek looked up at him. “Did you do this?”

“No, Derek, I didn’t do this. But you have an alibi, so relax.”

Derek shook his head. “From the guy who wants me back behind bars.”

“I didn’t say that.” Carson came down from the ladder and stood next to him as the sheriff pulled up in her patrol car. “There’s no evidence you’ve stolen anything.”

“No, there isn’t. That’s because I haven’t. I got in trouble a couple of years ago and I learned my lesson.”

“I’m sure you have.” Carson wanted to believe Derek. He did seem like a changed person.

Lucy got out of her patrol car, pushing sunglasses back and surveying the property. Derek went forward. Carson followed, but he shot a gaze in Ruby’s direction, watching her lead the pony that Brandon rode. She had gone still and even from a distance he felt her silent accusation.

“Lucy,” Derek started. “I guess you’re here to look for stolen property?”

Carson had to give it to Derek, he wasn’t acting guilty.

Lucy pushed back short, blond hair and looked around the place, a frown turning her lips. “Yeah, afraid so. Derek, I’m going to ask you to take a seat in my patrol car. It will make things easier as I take a look around.”

Derek slid into the backseat of the car. His jaw clenched, his eyes closed. Carson felt a truckload of sorry for him.

“I haven’t seen anything, Lucy.” The defense came unplanned but there it was, hanging between them as Ruby walked up, Brandon at her side.

“You haven’t seen anything because there’s nothing to see. We were at the ER with Gran. You can check it out, pull video, whatever you need to do.” Ruby had a hold of Brandon’s hand. The boy squirmed and shifted from foot to foot. She gave him a look, her expression softening to tender. “I’m going to take Brandon inside. Gran has some great cookies and chocolate milk. I’ll be back.”

Carson watched her go. He guessed if he wanted to keep a wall between himself and Ruby Donovan, this was the way to do it. She wouldn’t want much to do with him as long as her brother was a prime suspect in the robberies. He could do without the complication of getting involved in her family drama.

It was a win-win situation.

Other than the fact that the guy in the backseat was being accused when there wasn’t a bit of evidence against him. This entire situation was getting out of hand. The thefts, people turning against each other. Carson didn’t know how they would stop what felt like a train speeding down the track, about to derail.

He didn’t know how he would steer clear of Ruby Donovan and whatever still lingered between them.

* * *

Ruby stormed through the house, Brandon in tow. The little boy hurried to keep up with her. As she headed into the kitchen, Gran looked up from her seat on the walker that was pushed up to the counter. Frail was something Iva Donovan refused to be. Even after a night in the ER, she was thinking about feeding her family. Her eyes lit on the child Ruby had dragged in with her.

“You trying to pull his arm off, Ruby?”

Ruby stopped, bringing the child to a halt next to her. “No. Oh, Brandon, I’m sorry. Down the hall, buddy. That’s the room you’re looking for. I’ll get your cookies and milk.”

“What’s going on? And isn’t that Jenna’s child?”

“Yes, it is Jenna’s child. Carson is here. He came over to, I don’t know, maybe search the place. Maybe to help put up cameras. I’m not sure. And now Lucy is here because there was another theft last night.”

She poured milk and opened the cookie jar. Brandon came back down the hall. He climbed up on a stool and waited.

“Someone took Uncle Carson’s trophies that were his mom’s,” the child said as he reached for a cookie. His elbow hit the milk and it tumbled, sending liquid spilling across the counter. “Oops.”

Ruby reached for a roll of paper towels and wiped up the mess. “Oops. The nice thing about messes is that they clean up.”

“Yeah, my mom says I’m clumsy and she’s tired of cleaning up after me. I make a lot of messes.”

“Kids do, Brandon.” Ruby shoved off the caseworker ingrained deep within. She no longer had that job. She was here restoring a farm, finding a way to get back to the life she had walked out on years ago.

She’d moved to Oklahoma after college. She’d visited when she could. She’d sent money home to help her grandmother who insisted on keeping the farm.

“Where is Carson?” Iva asked as she peeled carrots.

“Outside with Derek and Lucy. I’m sure they’re going through the barn.”

“Looking for trophies,” Brandon supplied as he munched down on a cookie.

“Oh, yes, trophies.” Ruby drew in a breath. “I’m going to check on the pony. He needs to be unsaddled. Brandon, you stay here with my granny and I’ll be back.”

Brandon grinned. “Because Uncle Carson needs someone to take him down a notch. That’s what my mom always says.”

Iva snickered and tossed a half carrot to the child. “Eat something good for you, little man. If your mouth is full it won’t run quite so much. And Ruby, head on out of here before you blow a gasket.”

Ruby took her grandmother’s advice and headed for the front door, barely noticing the worn furniture, the threadbare rugs and the dust. There was so much to do. She didn’t know when she’d get it all done. The house, the farm, even Derek and Iva were in need of her attention.

As was the bank account that was dwindling to an all-time low.

As she walked down the steps she saw Carson heading her way. Derek walked with him. The two were talking in a way that settled her nerves, because the conversation seemed halfway civil. She waited until they got to her and then she nodded toward the house, sending Derek on his way.

He paused, looking down at her, a reminder that he was no longer a little boy needing her protection. He was a grown man. He could take care of himself.

She had to let go.

But she couldn’t.

Derek started to say something, shook his head and went on inside. That left Ruby facing Carson. She lifted her head, determined to give him a verbal thrashing, but when their gazes clashed, she couldn’t. The words froze and time faded. She was seventeen again, telling him goodbye as he went off to college. She wasn’t strong or brave. She wasn’t able to hold it all together.

That girl was long gone. She took a deep breath and let her gaze drift from his to the few cattle in their field grazing down the grass that wouldn’t get them through the winter.

“He didn’t take the trophies. Why would he do that?”

Carson drew back at the question. “I didn’t...”

She held up her hand. “You can’t talk around a child. They have a tendency to not keep secrets.”

He rubbed a hand over his brow and nodded. “You’re right. And I’m sorry.”

“Are you? Sorry, that is? After all, you appear to think you’re in the right. You brought that little boy over pretending you were going to help out, be neighborly, but what you wanted to do is snoop. And then Lucy showed up. Is that all coincidence?”

“Actually, it is a coincidence that she showed up. But I will admit I did come over to look...” He sighed and even looked a little ashamed.

Good.

“Of course you did. And now that you have seen, you can go.”

He didn’t move. She waited, arms crossed, trying her best to appear brave as she faced him down. She arched an eyebrow for good measure.

Impatient, he jerked off his cowboy hat and brushed a hand through his hair. “Ruby, can we call a truce?”

“Why?”

“Because we’re neighbors. Because we used to be friends.”

She arched an eyebrow once again.

He cleared his throat and jammed his hat down on his head. “Fine, we were more than friends.”

Would a third eyebrow arch be too much? She sighed. “Yes, we were more than friends. But then it was made known to me that I wasn’t quite good enough.”

“You were good enough.” He said it quietly. “More than good enough.”

“Okay, well, let’s not go there, because we have different versions of the story.”

“I guess we do. Someday we’ll have to compare notes.”

She shook her head. “No, I’d rather not. I have a reason for being here, and you’re not included in that. I’m here for my grandmother and brother. I’m here to get this little ranch back in the black. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“I have to get Brandon,” he reminded her with an amused glint in his eyes.

“Of course you do.” So much for a dramatic exit. “I’ll get him for you.”

“Hey, Ruby, I’d like to enroll him in your riding class. And maybe Derek could teach him to rope.”

She had made it to the steps of the house and his words stopped her. Of all the things he could have said, she wished it hadn’t been that. Not him on this ranch, in her life, in her thoughts. Her heart still ached remembering how it had felt to know he was no longer a part of her world. She couldn’t let him back in knowing how that heartbreak had felt.

But she couldn’t turn down the money one more student would bring.

She turned, eyed the rancher standing in her yard, out of place in those poor surroundings. She’d been just as out of place in his world. They’d had a different circle of friends in high school. They’d had different experiences. Their worlds had clashed.

His dad had been right, telling her they would understand when they got older and were thinking with brains and not hormones.

“Have him here Monday afternoon at four. And don’t forget to enroll him in school.”

He inclined his head. “Sure thing. Thank you.”

“I’ll get him for you.”

She headed up the steps, leaving Carson in the yard. But she didn’t make it inside. Gran opened the door, Brandon right behind her.

“Carson, this is a fine little man you’ve got.” Iva eased her walker out the door, and Brandon followed. Ruby held the door for her grandmother and she avoided looking at Carson.

“Thank you, Iva. I hope he was good.”

“Of course he was good,” Iva assured him. “And he hasn’t been to church. A child shouldn’t be raised without some grounding in the word.”

At that, Carson chuckled, the sound low and vibrating against Ruby’s nerves, already strung tight from his presence. “Iva, you think you’ve finally found a way to force my hand.”

Ruby let the door close as her grandmother stepped out of the way. Iva sat down on the seat of her walker. “Of course I have. When you come to church, you all can come over here for lunch after. I’ll make apple pie.”

“Gran,” Ruby started.

Iva cut her off. “I’m being neighborly, Ruby Jo. Brandon needs church and it wouldn’t hurt Carson to have something sweet in his life.”

Ruby wanted the porch to open up and swallow her. Instead, she gave Carson a meaningful glare, daring him to accept the offer.

He ignored her, his focus 100 percent on her grandmother.

“I’d love to come over, Iva. It might not be this weekend, but soon.”

Iva cackled because she’d won. “That sounds good. It will be nice to have a big family lunch.”

“Family dinners and apple pie are always a good bribe and you know it.” He leaned to kiss Iva’s cheek. Ruby rolled her eyes. He was that good. Just waltz in, charm her grandmother and invade her life.

And she’d get the lecture once he left because she was only Ruby Jo when she was in trouble.

He left, taking Brandon by the hand and leading the little boy across the lawn to his big Ford truck. Ruby waited until the truck was heading down the drive before she allowed herself to look at her grandmother.

“Why?”

Iva looked innocent, her eyebrows drawing in over narrowed eyes. “What?”

“You know what. You invited Carson to lunch. Seriously? It’s bad enough that he wants me to give his nephew riding lessons, but having him here for lunch is too much.”

Iva gave her along, steady look. “Only if you are still bothered by his presence. If he doesn’t mean anything to you, why would it be a problem to have him around?”

“Because he thinks my brother is a thief. Because his family discarded me like trash. Because...”

Iva did the eyebrow arch this time. Ruby didn’t want to see how much she resembled her grandmother in that gesture.

“I know they hurt you. But I also know that you and Carson never talked about all of that. The check. His sister. It’s all in the past, but it’s also been buried and has been festering for a dozen years. Neither of you has moved on. Neither of you has gotten over being mad at the other.”

“I think we have moved on. I got a job in Oklahoma. He’s running the family ranch.”

“Yes, you’ve moved on. But it’s like running in place. Neither of you has gotten anywhere.”

“Gran...”

Her grandmother pushed herself to her feet. “Oh, Ruby, stop worrying. It’s just lunch and it might not happen for weeks. Or ever.”

“Yes, just lunch.” With a man she’d once loved. A man she’d thought she would marry.

A man who was still kind and caring. She knew he’d helped her grandmother. Now she knew he was willing to care for a nephew. She knew he cared about his community.

She wanted to paint him as the villain, but she couldn’t. She knew him. And knowing him made him even more dangerous.

Chapter Four

On Saturday morning Carson headed to town with Brandon in tow. And Brandon in tow was easier said than done. Even though it was only nine in the morning he’d already done a good day’s work. With his nephew tagging along, it had been double duty. Especially when by eight the kid in question had managed to open a gate and let out a few horses. He’d caught the wild barn cat and managed to get scratched up good. And then he’d turned on the water in the bathroom and left it running.

As he drove Carson tossed his hat on the truck seat and brushed a hand through his hair. He cast a sideways look at the little boy and shook his head. The kid was almost asleep. And sleeping he looked pretty innocent. Cute, even. Carson felt the corner of his mouth tug up. Yeah, he wasn’t a bad kid. He just hadn’t had a lot of structure with Jenna.

This morning he’d asked Carson when his mommy was coming back. Carson shook his head at that, because he didn’t have an answer. He’d even tried to call his sister. She hadn’t answered.

Carson pulled up to Maggie’s Coffee Shop, grinning because not too long ago someone had stopped in town thinking to find one of those fancy city coffee places, not realizing a coffee shop was a diner with biscuits and gravy, strong coffee in a mug and maybe chicken fried steak for a lunch special.

“Ready for breakfast?” he asked his half-asleep nephew.

Brandon perked up. “Yeah. Pancakes, please!”

“You got it.”

He got out of the truck and motioned Brandon across, to get out on his side. The boy grabbed his own white cowboy hat and, with a grin, pushed it down on his head. He looked up at Carson, happy again and wide-awake. Together they walked up the sidewalk to Maggie’s. The place was packed, as he’d expected on a Saturday morning. Town was packed. He’d seen a dozen cars at Big Jim’s grocery store, and a half-dozen cars lined up at the pumps of the gas station. He guessed it was the nice weather. People wanted to get out and enjoy weather that was cool after a summer that had felt like they lived in a furnace.

He knew what to expect when he walked through the door of Maggie’s. A couple dozen men would be drinking coffee and solving the world’s problems. And a few would be trying to solve the thefts that had been hitting their community.

“Hey, Carson,” Ben Stillwater from the Stillwater ranch called out and motioned to an empty chair at their table.

A table with Byron McKay and his twin boys, Winston and Gareth. The boys were sixteen and fortunately didn’t look much like their dad. They both had strawberry blond hair like him but favored their momma otherwise, and they had that look of too much money and not enough responsibility.

Ben Stillwater was a twin, too. His identical twin, Grady, was in the army and stationed in Afghanistan. Ben had stayed home to rodeo and continue running the Stillwater ranch. They were identical, but that didn’t mean they were exactly alike.

“Who do you have with you?” Ben asked, reaching for a chair at a nearby table and placing it next to him. “Is this Jenna’s almost grown son?”

Brandon grinned and took the seat next to Ben. “I’m five.”

“I reckon you are.” Ben shot Carson a questioning look that he could only answer with a shrug of a shoulder.

Carson took the other empty chair and turned over the coffee cup sitting in front of him. The waitress, Sally Ann, only worked Saturdays. She smiled at the two of them as she hurried their way with coffee and menus.

“What are you all having today, Carson?”

“I’ll take the Saturday-morning special and Brandon would like pancakes and bacon. And to drink he’ll take—”

“Chocolate milk,” Brandon shouted.

Next to Carson, Ben laughed. “He’s going to keep you on your toes, my friend.”

“Yeah, I guess he will.”

Brandon gave Carson a look and then he turned to Ben. “I don’t think he can get on his toes. And Ruby is going to take him down a notch.”

Ben laughed loud and long. People turned to stare. Carson shot him a look, hoping to quell his mirth.

“That’s about the best thing I’ve heard in a long time.” Ben held his hand up. “Give me a fiver, little man.”

Brandon grinned and slapped his palm against Ben’s. Carson turned away from the two, hoping that would keep Ben from asking questions about Ruby and how Brandon would have heard her say anything about him.

The conversation across the table between Byron and another rancher caught Carson’s attention. He sipped his coffee and listened to the coffee shop gossip.

The foreman for the Marley ranch, a spread on the other side of town, came in and sat at the table next to theirs.

“Is it true you all got hit last night?” Byron asked as he shoveled a big bite of eggs into his mouth.

“Yeah, ten head and they burned a few bales of hay. That’s leading me to believe we don’t have professional cattle thieves on our hands. Professionals don’t light up a blaze to let everyone know they’re around.”

“Professionals don’t keep hitting small and taking things that don’t really matter,” Ben interjected as he cut up his biscuits and gravy.

The waitress showed up with Carson and Brandon’s food. She refilled his coffee, placed the bill next to his plate and took a second to talk to the little boy in their midst. He was eyeing pancakes heaped with butter, chocolate chips and syrup.

“Byron, have you all seen Betsy since her daddy died?” Ben asked, always being the one willing to wade right into troubled waters.

Brandon, only five but not oblivious to tension, looked up, watching the men at the table. Carson sighed, wishing Ben had left well enough alone. Byron and his cousin Mac McKay had never been close. Mac had run his small farm, but that hadn’t been enough to pay the bills. And when it all had come crashing in, when he’d needed the help of a relative, Byron had turned him down flat.

No one wanted to dwell on the night Mac, in a drunken stupor, had walked in front of a car. Betsy, his only child, had left town. Eighteen and on her own. Carson liked to think there were folks in town, himself included, who would have helped her out had she stayed. He only wished Mac would have taken his offer of help.

“Betsy isn’t my problem,” Byron blustered. That brought Carson back to the conversation. “The girl is just like her dad. She isn’t going to get anything out of life if she isn’t willing to work for it. I didn’t give Mac handouts and I won’t give her any.”

“She’s a kid,” Winston McKay spoke softly from his chair just a few seats down the table. He glanced at his dad and went back to eating.

The two boys looked at each other. Meaningful looks. Carson watched, interested, and his opinion of the two boys came up a notch.

Byron didn’t seem to share his opinion. “If I find out you two have been helping her, you will find out what it’s like to not have anything.”

Ben cleared his throat. “Let’s take it down a notch. We’ve got a little cowboy here trying to eat his breakfast. And I’d like to enjoy mine.”

“Agreed,” Carson voiced his opinion to let things settle a little.

Byron blustered and set his cup down, slopping coffee on the bill next to his plate. He brushed it off with a napkin.

“Yesterday Lucy went out to the Donovan place again,” Byron said, changing the subject without much finesse. “I still say that kid is guilty and we ought to just arrest him.”

Carson sat back, looking at the other man and wondering why he couldn’t just be reasonable. “Byron, there are a few problems with that thought. Number one, ‘we’ can’t arrest anyone. Number two, the kid doesn’t have any of the stolen property. You can’t arrest someone just because you don’t like them.”

“And you’re only taking up for him because that sister of his is back in town, and you’ve forgotten that your daddy didn’t want you messing around—”

“Be quiet.” Carson leaned across the table. “I’ve had enough, Byron. You want to accuse your neighbors, stir up trouble and pit people against each other. But as far as I know the Donovans have never done a thing to you.”

“I’m just saying they aren’t any better than that cousin of mine was. Mac wanted my money, my resources. They’ll take what they can—”

Carson raised a hand. He didn’t need to hear any more. He was sure his dad had probably told Byron about the payoff to Ruby. That didn’t mean the rest of the county needed to hear it.

“Byron, the last thing I need today is a case of indigestion, so let’s leave off. We can talk about something that matters or enjoy a little peace and quiet.”

Ben cleared his throat. “I hear she’s giving riding lessons. I sold her a pony a few weeks ago. She’s going to need saddles if anyone has old ones they aren’t using.”

Carson started to answer but before he could get the words out, Byron scooted his chair back and stood. He gave his boys a meaningful glare.

“I guess I’ll just leave,” Byron grumbled as he grabbed the bill next to his plate. “But I want you to know, as vice president of the league, I’m going to start organizing patrols. Call it a neighborhood watch if that makes you and Lucy happy. If our sheriff can’t solve these crimes, we’ll do it ourselves.”

“Go ahead, Byron. I’m not going to stop you.”

His boys stood up, a nod acknowledging the other men at the table as they followed their dad out. Ben whistled and leaned his chair back on two legs.

“That man is strung tighter than his fences!”

“Yeah, just a little.”

“About Ruby,” Ben waded in again, a big grin on his face.

“Leave it. Can’t a man just eat his breakfast?”

Ben laughed at that. “Yeah, I guess he can.”

Carson finished his breakfast, wishing for once that he’d gone out of town for the meal rather than into Maggie’s and what appeared to be a real hornet’s nest. What he wouldn’t give for a quiet life.

Instead of that quiet life he walked out of the diner some thirty minutes later with Brandon in tow. His nephew had managed to knock over his glass of chocolate milk, not once but twice. He’d poured salt in Ben’s coffee when they hadn’t been looking and he’d unscrewed the lid on the ketchup. Carson had fortunately caught that little trick.

He wasn’t so sure Ben hadn’t given him the idea to try the trick.

As they walked out the front door, the old adage about things had nowhere to go but up seemed as far off as the moon. Ruby pulled her old farm truck into an empty parking space and hopped out. She saw him and frowned.

* * *

Ruby could have gone a whole year without seeing Carson again. Or so she wanted to believe. But she couldn’t lie, not even to herself. Seeing him standing on that sidewalk with his nephew almost tore her heart out. It was a reaction she hadn’t expected. But seeing him with that little boy took her back. The sight made her think of dreams and what she might have had.

If wishes were ponies, Granny Iva always said. Wishes weren’t ponies. Ponies, saddles, bridles and feed were bought with cold, hard cash. Just like Carson’s dad had tried to buy her. He’d tried to buy her and he’d tried to threaten her, with Iva as his target. She shook her head to clear that memory.

“Hey, Ruby!” Brandon pulled away from his uncle. “Did you get that new pony you were telling me about?”

“As a matter of fact, I did. Derek hauled him home today.”

“Is he fast?”

She smiled, because to a little boy it was all about speed.

“I think he might be the fastest pony I have on the place!”

He started to bounce. She smoothed a hand down the little boy’s shoulder.

“What did you have for breakfast?”

“Pancakes with chocolate chips and syrup. And I had bacon. And chocolate milk.”

She glanced from the boy to Carson. He shrugged and she shook her head.

“That’s a lot of sugar for one little boy,” she said, more for Carson than the child. “Maybe tomorrow just have eggs and toast?”

He wrinkled his Thorn nose at her. “I don’t like eggs.”

“No, I don’t imagine you do.” She glanced toward Maggie’s and then let her gaze settle on Carson. What a mistake. He stood there, relaxed and in control, his keys in his hand. The other hand reached for Brandon. “Is Doc Grainger inside? I called out to the ranch but they said he was in town having coffee.”

Doc, as they all called him, had been born and raised on the Grainger spread. As much as the ranch was a part of him, he’d shared that he never felt like a rancher. He was giving the community a year and then he was heading for the city to practice medicine. She, like many others, hoped he’d stay in town.

Ruby knew him well enough to doubt he would.

“Yeah, I think he was sitting in a booth at the back. Is everything okay?” Concern edged into Carson’s tone, genuine concern. It softened the brittle tone and softened Ruby’s heart a smidge.

“I think everything is okay. Iva doesn’t tell me everything, you know. She’s tough like that. But this morning I can tell she doesn’t feel well, maybe just a cold coming on, but I thought I’d see if he’d stop by the house later. I know he’s a pediatrician, but he’s always been so good about checking on her.”

“If you need anything...”

“We’re fine, Carson.” Her words didn’t sound as strong as she had intended but repeating them in a firmer tone wouldn’t serve her purpose, either.

“Can I come by and see the pony? Does he have a name?” Brandon tugged at her hand as he asked the questions.

“His name is Peanut and I will let you ride him Monday when you have your lesson.”

Carson stepped closer, Brandon’s hand still in his. “Are you sure everything is okay with Iva? Do you need to drive her to Austin?”

She shook her head. She didn’t need his help. She didn’t need him close. She didn’t need to get all tangled up in leftover emotions. That’s all this was, leftovers. They might sound good, but rarely were as good as the first time around. She swallowed and met his warm gaze and saw concern. Inwardly, she cringed. She didn’t want his concern. Remembering him as a person who genuinely cared complicated things.

“I’m sure she’s fine. But I’ll feel better if Doc can come out and check on her.”

“Let me know if anything changes. And if you need to cancel on Monday, we’ll understand.”

At his mention of canceling, Brandon groaned. Ruby smiled down at the little guy. “Don’t worry, we won’t cancel.”

“We’ll go then. Let me know if you need anything.” Carson walked away with his nephew.

She watched them go, drawn to the pair, drawn by the past and by the present. That was even more of a complication. One she didn’t need. It seemed that somewhere beneath the hard exterior, the Carson she knew still lived and breathed.

The door to Maggie’s opened and the man she had been looking for stepped out. Tyler Grainger, tall and all blond good looks, stopped to look around as he pulled car keys out of his pocket. He saw Ruby and nodded.

“Ruby, how’s Iva?” Tyler headed her way with an easy gait, comfortable in his own skin. He still looked like a kid who’d grown up in this small town. But she understood wanting to shed that skin and be someone or something else.

“She’s not good, Tyler. I’m worried, and of course she refuses to go to the doctor. She says she went and going wears her out.”

“I can stop by,” he offered as he glanced at the watch on his wrist. “In an hour?”

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble. I know house calls are a thing of the past and this isn’t your specialty.”

He shrugged off her comments. “I don’t mind.”

“Thank you.”

A truck started. She turned, knowing it would be Carson’s and realizing immediately that she shouldn’t have turned. It was too easy, this getting pulled into the past, into remembering how he’d cared.

She didn’t need those reminders. She didn’t need to think about confiding in him the way she once had. No, she had to think about her small family and how to keep them together and keep them solvent.

“Everything okay between you and Carson?” Tyler asked.

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