A Home in Hill Country (Harlequin Heartwarming) (9 page)

Hayden was still out there, of course, bursting with energy and having the time of his life.

But Cody… Frowning, Ryan scanned the field again. Even with the same oversize uniforms on, he’d picked out the boy right away, and now…

At the far end of the field he finally saw a woman kneeling next to a boy, who stood with his head bowed and his hands hanging loose at his side.

He knew in an instant that Kristin was trying to repair the damage…and that this was probably his fault. He’d pushed her to get the poor kid’s father here today.

He ignored the increasing pain in his knee as he strode across the grass to the far side of the parents cheering on their kids, and drew to a stop within inches of Ted. The man was oblivious, still glaring at his son instead of trying to console or praise him.

“Ted,” Ryan growled. He lowered his voice another notch. “I see you’ve come out here to make your son’s day.”

Startled, Ted jerked away. “Who—” Recognition dawned in his face as he surveyed Ryan from head to toe, and his smug expression turned to contempt. “Well, look who’s here.”

“The question is, why you’re here, if all you want to do is belittle your son.”

“The kid doesn’t even try.” Ted sneered, clearly irritated. “But that’s hardly your concern, is it?”

Ryan eased farther into the man’s space, crowding him back a step. “It’s the concern of every decent adult here. How do you think you make Cody feel? Special? Loved? Or maybe the issue is how it makes
you
feel. Give you a sense of power, maybe? Maybe make you feel like a big man?”

“Look, Gallagher, back off. I hardly think threatening me in front of all these people is wise. Lay a hand on me, and I have a hundred witnesses.”

Ryan sensed someone come up behind him,
and glanced over his shoulder. An older woman and her husband stood glaring at Ted.

“Frankly, I think you’re pathetic,” the woman said, her voice hard. “I’ve listened to you for the past fifteen minutes, and I think you should be reported to the county hotline for the way you treat that boy.” Her husband touched her arm, but she shook him off. “I don’t care, Frank. Verbal abuse is every bit as painful as being hit.”

“I’m not sure all the ‘witnesses’ are on your side,
Teddy.
” Ryan nodded toward Cody and Kristin. “You’re going over there to apologize to Cody. You’re going to explain that you didn’t mean it, and you’re going to tell him that he’s a super kid. Make him
believe
it…or I’ll report you myself.”

Ted stared back at Ryan, then his eyes veered toward the older couple and another woman who’d come to join them. He lifted his chin. “I would’ve talked to him anyway. Stay out of my business.”

His anger simmering, Ryan held Ted’s gaze until the other man finally broke eye contact and took a faltering step back. “Now, Ted. Undo the damage you did to that poor kid.”

“It was ridiculous of Kristin to insist I come for this little recess activity, anyway. I left clients. An important meeting. And for what?” Ted stalked toward his son, his back rigid. He lingered for just a few minutes, dropped an awkward pat
on Cody’s shoulder, then he got into a gleaming black BMW and drove off.

It wasn’t enough. Ryan could see that in the boy’s slumped shoulders and the way Kristin was glaring at Ted’s car as he disappeared down the street.

Kristin had made bad choices. Well, everyone had made some bad ones all those years ago, but it was clear she’d paid dearly.

Squaring his shoulders, Ryan sauntered over to join her, and hoped he could help make things right for her little boy.

R
YAN STAYED
a few yards back, unsure whether or not he should interfere with Kristin’s pep talk.

“Cody, you know your dad gets impatient about things.” Sitting back on her heels, Kristin gave him a conspiratorial smile. “He was never good at sports and he really doesn’t understand them. Believe me, you’re doing a fine job out on that field, and I’m proud of you.”

Cody pulled off his team shirt and dropped it on the ground. “I’m slow and stupid, and I didn’t even catch the ball. Not once.”

“You’re just as good as every other boy out there. Fourth graders aren’t
supposed
to be perfect, and none of those other kids are, either. They’re just learning the basics and practicing so they can get better.”

Cody’s attention veered to the playing field, where Hayden caught the football on the run and ran the length of the field. The despair in Cody’s eyes spurred Ryan forward and he rested a hand on Kristin’s shoulder. “How much are you doing with him at home?”

She pulled away and gave Ryan a cold glare as she stood up. “He’s just been to two practices so far. We’ll start playing catch with the football, I suppose. And…whatever the coach tells us to do.”

“Not enough.” Ryan eyed Cody thoughtfully. “Some of these town kids get to play all the time. All those neighborhood pickup games with their friends give them an advantage.”

Cody shuffled his feet in the grass and studied his shoelaces, but he was clearly listening to every word.

“What do you say to throwing the ball with Hayden and me after school? Maybe a couple times a week? You could come home on the school bus with him. He needs the extra work, too.”

Cody’s head bobbed up in disbelief. “
Hayden
does?”

“Well, he’s got the same problem you do—no neighbor guys around. If it’s okay with your mom, you two could practice together. Throwing and catching are important skills in this game.” Ryan cocked his head, taking the boy’s measure. “You’re both strong kids with a lot of talent. What do you say?”

Cody jammed his hand in his jeans pockets, trying to look nonchalant, but the hope in his eyes gave him away as he turned to his mom. “Can I?”

“I don’t know.” She bit her lower lip. “I’m sure the Gallaghers are busy people, Cody.”

“Let me clear it with Hayden’s mom and dad, and then we’ll get back to you. I’ll bet we can work something out a couple times a week.” Ryan glanced over at the coach, who was lining up the two “teams” for another play. “Right now, though, you’d better get over there, so those guys don’t get to learn more than you.”

Cody flashed a grateful grin at Ryan, jerked on his shirt and sped across the field. His mother shielded her eyes against the late-afternoon sun, her shoulders sagging.

“I try. Honestly, I try,” she murmured. She smiled wearily at Ryan. “I appreciate what you said to Cody. I just hope it works out to play with Hayden—he’ll be so crushed if this falls through.”

“I can’t imagine why we can’t get them together one way or another. If Donna has other commitments for Hayden right after school, then you could bring Cody over later. I can certainly make time to work with the boys.”

A faint blush colored her cheeks. “I imagine everyone here heard Ted being his charming self again.”

He wanted to ask how she could have married the guy. What it had been like all this time, for her and Cody. But he’d lost the right to ask such personal questions long ago. Instead, he lifted a
shoulder in a noncommittal shrug. “I feel sort of responsible. I told you to invite him.”

“He knew about it, and I’d already planned to remind him, because he
should
come more often. Maybe he would learn more about his son, and loosen up a little. It hurts Cody terribly that he has so little interaction with his dad.”

“Kids grow up fast, and you sure can’t go back later.” Though Clint had
never
had the inclination to spend father-son time with his three boys. “That’s a mistake a man should never make.”

Kristin seemed to read Ryan’s mind, because her expression grew sympathetic. “You’d be a good father, Ryan.” She glanced across the field, to where Trevor was exchanging high-fives with his son. “Trevor sure is.”

Not like your father.

He knew what she was thinking. She’d met Clint only once, when Ryan brought her home to meet the family, and Clint hadn’t been at the ranch long that weekend. Surly and impatient, wrapped up in some sort of political project, he’d been the antithesis of a congenial host…and nowhere close to anyone’s image of a loving parent.

“That won’t happen for me.” The thought of fatherhood was too foreign to even contemplate. “I look forward to time with my niece and nephew while I’m still here, though.”

“You haven’t found some pretty little lieutenant in the service?” Kristin teased.

“I’m not looking.” Uncomfortable, he tipped the brim of his Western hat and started to turn, but she reached out to stop him.

“Before you leave…I’ve left several phone messages for your dad, and he hasn’t answered. Does he check his machine?”

“All the time.” Concerned, Ryan searched her face. “What’s wrong?”

“I just need to talk to him. He needs to come back to the clinic. Soon.”

“Were his tests okay? The blood work and the EKG?

“I need to talk to him directly, and then he can decide what to share. I’m sorry, it’s the law.”

Ryan sighed. The first two visits had been a test of wills. Though Trevor had agreed to making the second trip, only Ryan had been able to coerce that old man into action, and even then they’d been a good fifteen minutes late.

“I’ll do what I can to get him there, but no guarantees. He wasn’t all that pleased the last time.”

Watching her as she walked away reminded him of his college days at the University of Texas-Austin, and the hot, early-September afternoon he’d been sitting on a low stone wall outside Benedict Hall waiting for a buddy.

The prettiest girl he’d ever seen had walked by, her long blond hair cascading down her slender back, oversize sunglasses partially obscuring her delicate face. She’d stopped a few yards away to hunt through her unwieldy backpack for something, and when a breeze scattered some of her papers onto the grass, he’d considered it his lucky day.

He’d vaulted over the wall after them, and ended up talking to her for an hour. She was sweet and funny and smart. The fact that they’d both been born in the same small town had given them common ground. For the next six months they’d been inseparable, so sure their love would last forever that he’d proposed to her on Valentine’s Day and taken her to meet his family the following weekend.

She’d walked out on him the next day, catapulting him from joy to misery in an instant.

How would their lives have been different if they’d stayed together? Would they have had children Cody’s age? Would they have been happy? Or would they have ended up as just one more divorce statistic, like their parents?

Every time he saw her, he found himself increasingly drawn to her. But he’d been a fool once and it wouldn’t happen again.

R
YAN PUSHED AWAY
from the desk and massaged his left shoulder, trying to work out the pain and
stiffness. He glanced at the clock. Only
eleven
o’clock?

He’d awakened early and gone out to work Jazz, the young black gelding he’d been riding every day, then he’d helped Trevor with chores. That time had flown. The past two hours in the office had felt like ten.

After talking to Leland last Saturday, he’d started working on the books, sorting through overdue notes, misfiled papers and a bookkeeping system that seemed to have no system whatsoever. He was ready to pitch the antiquated computer out the window and shovel the contents of the file cabinets into a roaring bonfire.

If complete records had ever existed, they sure weren’t in this office now. And if Clint walked in one more time and questioned his every move, he was going to pack his duffle bag and catch the next flight back to…

Ryan turned at the sound of shuffling footsteps at the door and found his youngest brother with one hand braced against the frame, his face sallow.

“Howdy, bro.” Garrett’s voice was filled with morning-after gravel, his words slurred. The undercurrent of resentment in his tone was loud and clear. “Ah, I see you’re in here saving us all from ruin.”

Ryan gave him a contemptuous once-over and raised his voice. “And I see you’re awake.”

Garrett flinched. “I’m drunk, not deaf.” He moved into the room with the cautious balance of someone trying to avoid jarring a killer headache.

“That’s hungover, not drunk, and you’re a mess. Is this what you do all the time?” After arriving late Wednesday, Garrett had showered and headed into town. Apparently he’d stayed out most of the night and slept most of Thursday, then took off again last night.

“S’pose so.” Garrett eased himself into one of the leather upholstered chairs in the office, propped a booted foot on the other one, and slouched until he was nearly prone. “Less I’m chasin’ the bulls. Got no place to go this weekend.”

A strip of Ace bandaging showed beneath the cuff of his white Western shirt. Curious, Ryan moved closer and brushed the hair back from Garrett’s forehead. Sure enough, a deep yellow-green bruise covered the left side. “You get this in a bar fight, or from that last bull?”

Garrett batted his hand away. “Bull,” he growled.

“Eight seconds?”

“Made it to seven. He was a real good draw, and I was scoring high…then he sucked into a reverse
spin and came right out from under me. Left me in the dirt.”

So he’d been out of the money, which probably accounted for his return to the ranch. Trevor had said Garrett traveled with rodeo buddies, and avoided coming home as long as any of them were earning enough to keep gas in the truck and the next entry fees paid.

“What about your arm?”

“’S nothin’.”

“Fracture? Sprain? Or do you just wear that Ace for decoration?”

Garrett glanced at Ryan, then looked away. “Banged up a little, is all.”

“Were you seen by a doctor? Did you have X-rays?”

“No time. Danny and Trace had to make it to Albuquerque by tonight. So we came back here, they got Danny’s truck and took off.”

The sullen tilt of his mouth was so reminiscent of him as a child that Ryan had to curb a laugh. “Left you behind, did they?”

“Don’t matter.”

Ryan had already come across three substantial checks made out to Garrett over the past four months. “You thought you’d stop by, pick up some money and take off again. Am I right?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Let me get this straight. You and Trevor stand
in line to inherit this place. Trevor’s working his butt off here, you breeze through when you need money. Sounds fair.”

“It’s none of your business.” He propped an elbow on the arm of his chair and gingerly touched his fingertips to his temple. “You…have no idea what’s fair.”

Ryan laughed out loud.
Fair
would have been a father who’d been close, loving, supportive. A father who wouldn’t have stalled every dream and threatened to disown him if he didn’t buckle.
Fair
would’ve been a father who made that threat in the heat of anger, but didn’t follow through.

Ryan knew all about the fairness in Clint Gallagher’s cold heart, but he just smiled grimly. “Maybe you wheedled money out of the past managers here at the ranch, but while I’m here that won’t happen.”

Garrett shot to his feet—the dramatic effect spoiled when he stumbled over his own legs in the process and then swayed until he caught his balance. “You can’t do that.”

“Try me.” Ryan waved a hand toward the training pens outside. “Get sober, get that arm checked out. Then you can start riding colts and helping with chores around here. Earn your money, and you’ll get your check in a month. You’re twenty-six, Garrett. It’s time to grow up.”

“It isn’t your decision.” His voice filled with
loathing, Garrett shouldered Ryan belligerently as he passed on his way to the door. “You can get lost.”

Pain sliced through Ryan’s shoulder at the rough contact, followed by a roll of nausea in his stomach. But worse than that was his guilt over the two young brothers he’d left behind when he went into the service.

“I’ve been there, kid,” he said softly, watching Garrett stalk toward the house. “And there’s all kinds of ways to get lost. I’m just sorry you haven’t found your way back yet.”

C
ODY FIDGETED
in his seat as his mom turned off the highway. Huge stone pillars rose on either side of the lane, supporting a heavy log suspended high overhead with The Four Aces carved on it in fancy letters. There were big flowering bushes flanking the entrance, too, and the road ahead was lined with trees and a white pipe fence that seemed to go on forever.

Before, they’d entered the ranch through a back pasture gate, and had left after dark. Now, in the bright, Saturday-morning sunlight, it all looked so grand, so different from their own place, that he suddenly felt very small and a lot more nervous. “What if it’s a mistake? Maybe this wasn’t really the day.”

Mom glanced over at him and smiled. “Hayden’s mom called just last night, honey.”

“But what if they, like, don’t really want me to come over? Maybe it’s just a big favor, or something, and I’ll be in the way.”

“Donna said you were more than welcome. She said Hayden’s looking forward to this, and if it works out, we’ll try to get you two together on a regular basis.”

He laced his fingers over his stomach. “My stomach feels weird.”

“Really.” Mom frowned, but kept her eyes on the road. “For how long?”

“Uh…all morning. Since I got up.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “So that was
before
the three bowls of cereal and the hour you spent working on your fort in the barn? I sure heard a lot of pounding out there.”

“Yeah. Only now it’s worse. Maybe I’ll have to throw up, or something.”

She gave him a pat on the leg. “Let’s see how this goes. You might feel a lot better once we get there.”

The road went up and down hills, past rocky crags and stands of live oaks, a big pond surrounded by pines, then finally the ranch house came into view. From this angle, it was a whole lot bigger and fancier than he’d realized. What
was it like to have so much money that you practically owned the world?