Once a Rancher (20 page)

The aftermath involved more unspoken messages. He had a lot of things to say, but wasn't sure quite how to say them, so he followed his instincts and kept his mouth shut. Unless he was lightly tasting her nipple, or skimming the arch of her throat and holding her as intimately as possible, because he knew she wouldn't stay the night.

Correct on that count. Sometime later, she said, “You need to take me home.”

“I will if that's what you want, but I think your ex is a big boy. If you spend the night with me, he'll just have to get over it.”

“But Ryder isn't a big boy. I don't want to risk leaving him there alone, especially now. More than once, I've woken up in the morning to find a note from Hank that said ‘deployed.' No warnings, no details, nothing.”

He raised himself up on one elbow. “Do you really think he'd take off like that, leave him on his own?”

“I don't know. Even though Ryder's only fourteen, he's easily going to be as tall as you. He looks like an adult, but he isn't, and I'm not sure Hank understands that. He isn't used to taking care of him. My point is that since I'm the one Ryder counts on, I should be there. If Hank got orders, he'd just up and go. I'm speaking with the voice of experience here.”

As he searched for his clothes, he reminded himself that this was why he was convinced she'd be his ideal life partner. Her sense of responsibility, caring, commitment. A woman Ryder could count on. A woman
he
could count on. Just like she could count on him...

Yes, he'd take her home, which was ironic since she currently lived with her ex, but that wasn't her choice. He was.

This had been one hell of a happy evening.

Bonaparte was sleeping on the front stoop when he drove up and even approached him to rub against his ankles. Grace told him in astonishment, “I buy his food and he barely lets me pet him.”

“I have a romantic soul.” He kissed her. “I've got that on good authority. Bonaparte senses it.”

“Cats and romance? I don't quite see how they fit together.”

“Think about it. He loves you and I love you, so we're kindred souls.”

“Slater, I hope we aren't rushing this.” Her poignant expression tugged at his heart, but she'd agreed to marry him, so...

He kissed her again. “I get it. You don't
want
to love me. You don't want to get married. Mind setting a date for that wedding you'd rather not have? Once Mrs. A orders the ring, everyone will know, and my mother will start making her plans.”

She pushed him away, laughing. “I'm being railroaded.”

“No question there.” He held up his hands. “We're definitely on a runaway train. Okay, the wedding. How about early November? Autumn's really beautiful here. And,” he added, “we don't want to wait too long. You could be pregnant right now.”

Her smile was tremulous. “You must be joking. About getting married so soon...”

“Would I joke about one of the most important things in my life?” Grace fell into the category labeled
Essential to Happiness
. He said simply, “I know this is very real for me. Very right for me. For us.”

Grace took a deep, shaky breath. “I've told myself far too often that I didn't think it over long enough the first time, so I'm choosing to trust your instincts instead of mine. Yes to November, but
you
have to deal with Mrs. A.”

He could handle that. Maybe. “I'll do my best, but if you plan to bet on it like the rest of my family, I'd put my money on Lettie Arbuckle getting her way.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

S
HE
WAS
GOING
to get married again.

Insane. Yes, that describes me.

Except there was every chance she'd be an idiot to say no. She didn't feel any obligation to tell Hank, but there was someone she did feel obliged to discuss it with.

Ryder was still awake. Grace had no doubt he would be. He was a night owl, and if he thought for a split second that she didn't know that once she was in bed, he went back to reading Sci-Fi novels and watching movies, he was sadly mistaken. In this case, since his dad was staying in his room and he was sleeping on the couch, he was easily found out, because when she walked through the door, he was in the kitchen making microwave popcorn, an action movie playing—quietly, at least—on the television.

“You're busted.” She dropped her purse on the side table and kicked off a shoe. “It's well past your curfew.”

He removed the popcorn bag. “
You're
busted, Grace. Past curfew for you, too. I could've pretended to be asleep when I heard the truck pull up.”

She
was
late.

“It wouldn't have fooled me.”

“I know. That's why I didn't do it.” He dumped the contents of the bag into a glass bowl. “Want some popcorn?”

She'd been nervous during dinner, so while her meal had been delicious, she hadn't eaten much. Plus, now that she'd come to a crossroads and chosen a path, she actually craved a snack because her tension had eased. “Sounds good.”

“So you're going to marry Slater, huh?”

Evidently, she wasn't the one who'd have to bring up the subject. The other shoe clattered to the floor. “How did—”

“You just seem really happy.”

Did she? Happy enough that a fourteen-year-old absorbed in his own life would notice it? “I am happy, yes. And yes, I'm going to marry Slater.”

Job done painlessly. Although she needed to find out how he felt about it. “I know you like him. So, you're okay with it all around?”

He divided the popcorn into two bowls. “Sure.”

“Ryder?”

When he turned, his face was composed and for a moment the flippant fourteen-year-old wasn't there. “Grace, I think Slater is really great. My dad will never be here for me all the time. I know that. You will, and I know that, too. You're always there for me. So...I'm okay.”

The best part was she believed him. He also didn't thank her, which was a relief.

Almost everyone accepted their parents' unconditional love; they expected it, actually. That was as it should be. Even though some people didn't receive it, and the damage that did could last a lifetime. The fact was, Ryder didn't owe her anything. She probably owed him for teaching her what it was like to assume responsibility for another person. She wished he was wrong about Hank. The upside was that he'd read her absolutely right.

Always there.
That sensation of being alone had gone away for her, too. Now she had not only Slater but also Blythe, Drake, Mace, Red, Harry...even Mrs. A...and, of course, Ryder.

Her eyes filled with tears. “I'd hug you, but I assume you aren't interested. What are we watching?”

He dropped to the couch. “
True Grit
. Slater told me I should watch the original, and then the remake. He wants my opinion on which one I think is better. Kind of like homework.”

“Homework?” She took her bowl and sat next to him. “Why?”

“I might want to try my hand at ranching. Or maybe film production. I told Slater that, and he suggested the movie.”

Her response was careful. He was going to get to choose his own life. “Not the military?”

“I don't know yet.”

“You have some years to decide.”

“Red told me the time goes fast. I can't sit around waiting for the rabbit to hop over the damn crick.”

Choking on popcorn was an interesting sensation. Grace recovered and took a swallow from her bottle of water. “He's a profound man but I wish he wouldn't swear in front of you.”

Ryder grinned. “He didn't. I threw that in just to bug you.”

Red's wisdom was a gift of a unique kind. She wasn't sure if she should be grateful for his quaint sayings or not, but he was a positive influence. “I suppose that's his way of saying you should start thinking about it now. You shouldn't rush into a decision, though. Slater was planning to run the ranch, and that's not what he ended up doing, and I was a police officer and that isn't what I'm doing now, either. To his credit, your dad's always known his path and been dedicated to it, but that isn't true of everyone.”

He dropped his gaze. “Drake said I'm good with horses. A natural. Any chance I can do some amateur rodeo? Slater used to ride the circuit. He said he'd help if you agreed to it.”

Instinct told her to say no. Rodeo was hardly the safest sport, and while she'd seen the trophies in Slater's office, he'd been riding his whole life, and Ryder was just learning. “I'll talk to your father about it.”

Hank would, of course, say yes. Risk was a given to him and although he didn't disregard it, he thought of it as a way of life. His first duty had been working the deck of an aircraft carrier, landing fighter jets, for which he'd gotten danger pay. That word didn't scare him at all.

Ryder came to the same conclusion about his dad's likely reaction. He brightened. “Cool.”

“In the meantime, cue up the movie. I think I've seen the original about thirty times. John Wayne. You have my permission to stay up, but the minute it's over, hit the hay. You can watch the second one tomorrow night.”

“Red said his favorite John Wayne movie is
Big Jake
. Hey, are we going to live on the ranch?”

She hadn't even gotten that far, nor had she and Slater discussed it yet. Since the day she'd met the man, everything had been moving so fast. Helplessly, she responded, “I don't know.”

“I vote yes. That'd be great.”

It would be for him, no doubt. But whatever happened, she wasn't giving up her job. Ryder was already staying at the ranch until early evening—so he was practically living there, anyway. Harry had jumped into full mothering mode, and Blythe had assisted immeasurably with his homework, thanks to her patience and her sense of humor.

But it was overwhelming to imagine inheriting a big, busy family, plus a second stepchild, and she'd agreed that they could try to get pregnant. Slater might take it all in stride, but this kind of life hadn't been hers. She'd grown up in a conventional family on a quiet residential street. Her parents had had children later than most couples did, so the ranch with its chaotic exuberance would be quite the new experience.

It was too much to think about at this late hour.

“I'll see you in the morning,” she told Ryder, yawning and heading down the hall.

“Wait, hey, I almost forgot.” Ryder leaped up from the couch. “The neighbor brought this over. It was accidentally put in his mailbox.”

No, it wasn't. Sure, it was stamped and correctly addressed—to her—but it wasn't even postmarked and there was no return address.

Immediately, she knew who it was from. A sudden tension stiffened her shoulders. “Thanks. Go back to your movie. Sleep well.”

She went into her bedroom then the bathroom, took a pair of gloves she used for cleaning from the drawer and slipped them on. She sank down on the side of the bed and opened the envelope. Inside was a set of pictures.

Of her.

Getting out of her car. In the frozen food section of the grocery store. Unlocking her front door. Walking into the resort, talking on her cell phone.

Oh, that wasn't a clear message, was it?

I'm watching.

The worst was a picture of Slater talking to a man she didn't recognize, but that didn't matter. She was so chilled she could hardly breathe. She grabbed her cell phone and hit speed dial. To her relief, he answered right away. “Grace?”

She was practically babbling. “Are you back at the resort? Are you in your room? Is the door locked?”

“Yes. Yes, and yes. What's up?”

“You need to be careful.” She explained about the envelope, her heart still racing.

“I'll let Spence know first thing tomorrow. Doesn't sound as if the theory that he left the area is viable.” His tone was grim. “I'm getting very tired of this guy.”

So was she. But there was a positive slant to this latest development. “You want the good news?”

“Besides the fact that no one's been seriously hurt? Go for it.”

“David Reinhart committed a federal offense when he put that envelope in my neighbor's mailbox.”

“Can you prove it?”

“If we can lift prints off the envelope or the pictures, I can. I think he just made a big mistake.”

* * *

S
LATER
SAT
ACROSS
from Spence Hogan's desk and rubbed his jaw. “I'm concerned about this whole situation. You know that. Now what do I do?”

Spence raised his eyebrows. “Slate, you're talking about someone who understands procedure. She brought us the pictures. She used latex gloves to open the envelope. We'll run the prints. I suggest you do nothing. I get that you want to protect her, but I hate to point out she might be better at that than you are. Go do your movie stuff. We're on this, I promise.”

It wasn't bad advice, but it wasn't what he wanted to hear. “I'm going to marry her.”

There was a glint of humor in his friend's eyes. “Oh, if you think I don't already know that, you've lost all sense of reality. You do remember where you live, right?”

“Yeah.” He did. Slater hoped Grace would be given time to adjust to life in a small town and what that meant. “No secrets. I'm hoping Reinhart will figure out that it isn't just her and a teenage boy he's targeting.”

Spence leaned back in his chair. “I wish I didn't know how these people think, but unfortunately, I have some insights. It's an occupational hazard. I did some research on Mr. David Reinhart, and long before this issue with Grace, he was on a downward spiral. She caught him stealing and fired him, but as far I can tell, he's had run-ins with the law his entire life. She represents authority, which for whatever reason, he hates. Luckily, she can handle herself, but unluckily he knows it, so he'll come at her in an oblique way if he keeps on threatening her.”

Valid point. Slater had told her the same thing. “Surely in a place like Mustang Creek we should be able to find him easily.”

“I suspect he's holed up with one of his gambling buddies or a girlfriend and lying low. The friend who kicked him out said he's a personable guy and that there were always people coming and going, mostly new friends who hadn't got the picture yet, quite a few of them women. There are enough gaps in his background check that it suggests he sometimes uses another identity. I also doubt we're the only ones looking for him. His credit cards are all maxed out and the payments are overdue.”

As he drove back to the ranch he thought sardonically that if the man put as much effort into staying straight and getting help for his gambling habit as he did into harassing Grace, he'd be much better off.

Half an hour later he was saddling Heck, since he did his best thinking on horseback.

“Take a slicker. It's gonna rain.”

He glanced up as Red ambled through the stable in his usual bowlegged way. Slater might have argued that there wasn't a cloud in the sky; instead he grabbed one off a peg and nodded his thanks. Life experience had taught him that every single time he'd ignored his human barometer, he'd suffered for it.

“So you're getting hitched to your pretty redhead, huh?” The older man scratched his head theatrically. “Not quite sure what she sees in you, but love can be a mysterious thing. Kind of like an owl that doesn't like the dark. Just don't make sense.”

That
didn't make sense. But never mind.

Slater checked the frayed strap on the bridle. He'd been meaning to replace it, but it looked as though it would hold for this afternoon, anyway. “Well, I bet you can tell me what I see in her.”

“Yeah, that's obvious.” He chuckled. “But to give you credit, you've brought around some pretty girls who just didn't ring your bell, so I say if she does, marry her quick before she changes her mind.”

“November,” Slater informed him.

Bushy eyebrows shot up. “
This
November? That's fast work, son. Harry is gonna win that damn bet. The pool's big, too.”

It took some effort not to make an exasperated comment. By now, he knew everyone was just doing it to irritate him, and that was his fault for ever showing a reaction. He knew better.

Grace would have to get used to this bunch. Jokingly, he remarked, “I plan on keeping her away from the ranch as much as possible, in case you all cause her to change her mind.” He swung into the saddle, slicker in hand. “Would you do me a favor? Drive down to the main road and meet the bus when Ryder's due to get off. Right now I don't want him walking up the drive alone.”

Red gave him a quizzical look, but didn't pry. “Will do.”

“I appreciate it.” He touched Heck lightly with his heels.

The horse was as restive as always. They took off, and Heck clattered out at his usual reckless speed, which matched Slater's mood just fine.

He trusted Spence completely, knew he'd do everything possible as far as law enforcement was concerned. But Slater's instincts screamed that he needed to jump in for Grace and Ryder...and damn it, he had a life and successful career based on instincts.

Good camera shot or bad? Should he match music to the mood or not? Did he have the perfect angle and location? Or could he find something else that might more effectively capture what he wanted to say? He made calls like that all the time, so it wasn't exactly new to him, but this was up to Grace.