Rancher at Risk (16 page)

Ryan nodded, trying to smile but only managing to lift one corner of his mouth.

He went over to the closet and grabbed a shirt hanging from the rod. From behind him he heard the sound of wood scraping against wood. He froze with the shirt halfway on.

“Who’s this?” P.J. asked.

He slid his shirt on. Then, one by one, he snapped the snaps. Finally, he turned back into the room.

Over by the dresser, P.J. stood holding the picture frame, gazing down at the photo Ryan hadn’t looked at in nearly a year.

He cleared his throat. “That’s my family.”

P.J. frowned, squinting with his entire face just the way Billy did when something puzzled him. “But you said you didn’t
have
any boys.”

“He… He’s not with me anymore.”

“Oh.” He nodded. “You mean he’s in heaven?”

He took a deep breath and let it out again. “Yeah, he’s in heaven.”

“Like my daddy. Well, my old daddy. I have a new daddy now.” P.J. stood the frame on the dresser. He crossed the room again and dragged his pillow from the bed. “I’m going downstairs. Maybe it’s time for breakfast.”

Ryan watched him leave and then sat on the edge of the bed. He kept his gaze from the picture frame but couldn’t keep the questions from ringing in his head, the same unanswered questions, like the nightmares, he’d carried with him from Montana.

The accident
had
told him one thing—how quickly disasters could happen, with lives ending in an instant. Families lost in the space of a breath.

He let himself look at Jan and Billy. Then he tore his gaze away and thought of Lianne.

I can manage this,
she told him over and over again.
I can handle that. I can do my job. I don’t need your help.

Maybe. Maybe not.

Who could predict when a disaster would happen?

* * *

O
N
THE
WAY
back from town, Lianne’s cell phone vibrated. Ryan’s name sprang into her thoughts—ridiculous, as he didn’t even have her phone number.

The text had come from Caleb. He and Tess wanted to meet with them both at the Double S for dinner. Just what she needed.

Breakfast with the kids had helped distract her from her irritation with Ryan.

Last night he had disappeared after helping to bring everything in from the backyard, and they hadn’t seen him again.

This morning he never came near the house at all.

Considering his usual pattern, she had thought they would see him at least once before she left to take the kids home—as if he would have wanted to say goodbye to any of them.

She glanced at the clock on the dashboard before getting out of the car and slamming the door closed. He wouldn’t be able to avoid her much longer. She just hoped she would be able to control herself until after the night was over.

The minute she saw him at the kitchen table, she had to fight to swallow the things she wanted to say.

She managed a civil question. “Did you hear from Caleb?”

“Yep. I was just headed up to shower. Get the kids home okay?”

If he hadn’t said that, she might have been able to last longer. But he had, and she couldn’t. “Ryan, why wouldn’t you talk with Becky last night? You didn’t have to know how to sign. You could have pointed, gestured, smiled—done
anything
to acknowledge her.”

He rose from his seat, his thumbs in his belt loops.

His good ol’ gunslinger-at-the-ready position.

It made her ready for a shoot-out with him. It made her see red. It made her feel—as he would probably say—downright furious. All the emotion she had bottled up from the night before—the weeks before—poured out. “I know you’ve got issues with me because I can’t hear. I can deal with that. But for Pete’s sake, she’s a five-year-old. An innocent child. She can’t help that she can’t talk to you. And knowing she’s deaf shouldn’t make you avoid her like she’s got the plague.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.” She clutched a handful of her hair, took a deep breath and let it out again. “All right. You’re not deaf. I guess it’s too much for you ever to understand. But can’t you see how she feels when people pretend she’s not there—even when she’s right in front of them?”

“Left out.”

“What?” She couldn’t have read those words on his lips.

He moved toward her, as if he thought she couldn’t see his mouth from across the room. “Left out,” he repeated.

She stared. She
had
read him correctly.

“Irritated,” he added.

She blinked.

“Frustrated.”

She took another deep breath. “You
do
know.”

“I’ve been there. Last night in the kitchen. Watching you sign with her when I didn’t know a word you were saying. Out in the yard, seeing you all talking together.”

Her throat tightened at this first indication that he might care. “You could have talked to her through me. Becky’s comfortable with having an interpreter.”

“After what happened on Signal Street, I wanted to apologize to her. Directly.”

“You could have taken me aside after dinner and explained.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged, looked away, looked back again. “Was there ever a time when she could hear?”

When she wasn’t less than perfect?
Her heart ached. She shook her head. “She was born profoundly deaf.”

“Then she doesn’t hear birds singing? Or the voices of the kids she plays with?”

She shook her head again.

“She even misses out on hearing her dog bark?”

“She doesn’t hear Pirate, either. But she doesn’t miss his bark. She doesn’t ‘miss’ any of those things. Someone born hearing who becomes deaf later on has a memory of sounds. Becky doesn’t. She can’t miss something she’s never known.”

“And how do you feel?”

She curled her fingers into fists.

Finally.

They had been tiptoeing around her situation since the day they had met. Sometimes her deafness still didn’t seem to matter to him. That couldn’t make up for the times when he let his doubts and resistance show.

Even if last night had ended differently, they would have arrived at this point eventually. Inevitably.

And here they were, face-to-face in a situation she had encountered all through her life. Having to tell about her deafness. Having to explain how she managed without hearing. Instead of happiness that he might have some respect for her abilities, she was again forced to confront a hearing man who focused on what she
couldn’t
do.

She had hoped to get beyond that with this man.

“I told you I can’t hear anyone’s voice,” she reminded him. “I can hear some sounds. Loud thunder. Drums. An explosion. Even with music, no matter how loud, I don’t hear the words clearly. I feel the vibrations.” She thought of the night he’d held her on the dance floor, when she hadn’t needed anything to be able to follow his steps. Then she pushed the memory away.

“Ryan, I’ve been deaf my entire life. Like Becky, I don’t miss what I’ve never heard. And—” she brought her fists down hard, emotion adding emphasis to the sign “—I
can
do anything anyone else can.”

He looked at her for a long moment. She wanted to cry. Or run. She wouldn’t do either.

Finally, he shook his head. “That wasn’t what I was getting at when I asked.”

“Then what?”

“I meant, how do you feel when people pretend you’re not there?”

Didn’t he always ask questions designed to throw her? She crossed her arms, cradling her elbows in the palms of her hands. He spoke again, preventing her from looking away.

“How did you feel at Becky’s age?” he persisted. “Irritated?”

“Yes.”

“Frustrated?”

“Very.”

“Left out?”

Her fingers tightened. “Yes.”

“Lonely?”

Her throat tightened, too. She could only nod. He did understand the feelings. He
did
care. And maybe, if he could understand her, he could eventually accept why she cared so much about being treated like everyone else.

She took a deep, calming breath and let it out again. “Like Becky, I don’t hear. But there are so many things I don’t need to know
here—
” she pointed to her ear “—because I can feel them
here.
” She rested her hand over her heart.

He reached across the space between them and touched her fingers, as gently as the first time he had touched her face to wipe the pencil smudge away.

She hoped her hand could prevent him from feeling the pounding of her heart.

Could he hear it?

Surprise froze her in place. A thought like that had never occurred to her. But then, she had never been in a situation like this one…and she had never before cared about a man the way she cared about him.

He dropped his hand by his side. “I’d best go and get ready for supper.”

She nodded.

It took all her willpower not to reach out to him the way he had done to her. He had taken one step closer to understanding, and she was grateful for that.

Would he continue to take steps until they met each other halfway?

* * *

A
FTER
THEIR
QUIET
ride to town, Ryan would have liked some time alone to talk with Lianne, but she went through the door of the local cafe without a backward glance.

He followed, taking stock of the room, from the sombreros on the wall to the unvarnished tables and chairs. With luck, the Southwestern theme of the Double S would carry through to their menu.

They had arrived early. Caleb and his wife weren’t there yet. His mother-in-law and her sister were seated at a table near the front of the cafe next to the window looking onto Signal Street.

Roselynn smiled and waved them over.

Ellamae pointed out where they should sit. She put him at one end of the table with Lianne at a right angle to him. All right by him.

Back at the house, it had seemed as if they’d made some progress. Maybe she hadn’t been playing games with him as he’d believed after all.

The thought made him feel better than he had in days.

He hadn’t realized he was smiling until Lianne smiled at him in return. That went down well with him, too.

“We hear you’re doing some good work out at the ranch,” Roselynn said.

“Yeah,” Ellamae put in, “Caleb’s very pleased.”

“That’s good to hear.” He meant it, more than the woman could ever know.

Nate entered the cafe and headed right for their table. Ellamae seemed to have given up on dictating who sat where, since the girl slid onto the chair beside Lianne’s all on her own. “Hi again, Lianne. Hi, Ryan. We were looking for you after lunch today before we left the ranch. What happened to you?”

“He was working, Nate,” Ellamae said as if she had been there. “He’s a busy man.”

“Lianne’s busy, too,” Nate said.

“Of course she is.”

Caleb and Tess arrived at the table in time to hear the exchange. “And they’re going to get busier,” he said, taking a seat across from Lianne.

The waitress followed, bringing two baskets of taco chips and pots of salsa. Dori, her name was, and she spent the next few minutes chatting with them. When they got around to giving their orders, Ryan watched her write them down on her pad. She kept smiling despite all the commotion at the table and Nate changing her mind three times. No matter what Lianne had told him, he still couldn’t imagine how she had done a job like waitressing. He wouldn’t have wanted the challenge.

“Manny will have this ready for you soon,” Dori promised.

When she left to get their drinks, Lianne turned to Caleb. “What’s this about getting busier?”

“I’d like to let the folks in town know about our plans for the ranch. I figure the best way to do that is to give a presentation at the next town council meeting.”

“That sounds perfect,” Lianne said. “It would give everyone a chance to be there.”

“Yeah,” Nate said, “so they can make sure it’s not a
dude
ranch.”

Lianne laughed. Ryan shifted in his chair.

“I’ll work my magic and get it on the agenda for the next meeting,” Ellamae said.

Caleb nodded. “Right. Well before the official opening.”

“That sounds like good timing,” Ryan said.

Caleb ran down a list of what they would want to include for the presentation.

When talk turned to additional plans for the school’s operation, Ryan settled back in his seat, having a hard time focusing. Chances were he wouldn’t be there to see the school open.

Being promoted to ranch foreman had put him a step closer to rebuilding his reputation and regaining Caleb’s trust. Now that his boss was back, would he get to keep his title and continue to supervise the school construction?

If he did, how would that affect the situation with Lianne?

By the time they’d finished supper and said good-night to Caleb’s family, he’d started wishing he could head back to Montana right now.

He and Lianne had come to town in his truck. When he opened her door, she put one foot up on the running board. Then she turned to him. “What is it?” she asked.

After he’d gone quiet at supper, she had eyed him a few times with that stare that made him think she could see more about him than he knew himself. He’d known her question was coming but didn’t want to get into it with her. “What’s what?”

“Don’t.” She shook her head impatiently. “You wouldn’t even look at me again after Caleb started talking about the presentation. What’s bothering you about it?”

Not the question he’d expected. He had to stop himself from smiling in relief. They would talk this out and then things would go back to normal between them. “Nothing’s bothering me,” he said honestly. “I’ve got no trouble talking to folks.”

“You’ve got—?” Her eyes glittered in the light from the streetlamp. “Don’t do that, either. Ryan, stop putting limitations on me that I won’t put on myself. I’m managing the project. I’ll give the presentation.” Before he could respond, she went on, “You didn’t say much of anything once we all started talking about the school. Why not?”

Now they’d gotten to it. He ran a hand through his hair. “We’re nowhere near ready to open the school to anyone.”