The Rancher's Second Chance (Martin's Crossing Book 3) (13 page)

“It isn’t easy, is it, Brody? Everyone says they would like a second chance to do something different. But when we break it all down, thinking about the lessons we’ve learned, the good things that came from those decisions, it’s hard to say we would do something different. I know people would judge me for saying that, but I love this baby. She isn’t here yet, but I love her and will love her.”

“I know you do,” he replied quietly, his tone telling her it was okay.

“I regret hurting you. I regret so much. But I don’t regret keeping this baby.”

He reached for her hand and she let their fingers touch briefly before his hand returned to the steering wheel.

Silence settled between them until they reached the Rockhurst ranch. It was a pretty place with rolling fields, a creek rushing through a rocky bed and hills in the distance. Horses grazed in a field fenced with white vinyl fencing.

They pulled up to a brick house, long and low, with a truck parked out front.

The owner of the place met them as they walked toward the barn. He was older, with thinning gray hair but a still-handsome face.

“Brody, glad you could make it out here today. This gelding is a good little horse. He’s taught several grandkids how to stay in the saddle.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything but the best from you, Jim.” Brody turned to wait for her. She caught up and his arm slipped around her waist, feeling protective. “Have you met Grace Thomas?”

“I think we met at a rodeo last summer. You were with Jacki Thomas?”

“Yes, sir, my aunt.”

“I thought so,” he grinned. “Jacki is quite a lady. I argued with her once. It only took the once for me to realize I wouldn’t win.”

At that Grace smiled. “I’ve had that same experience.”

He led them to the barn. “I put Earl Grey in here last night.”

Brody laughed a little. “Earl Grey?”

“Don’t blame me. The wife likes tea and she named him when he was a foal.”

He opened the stall door and Brody stepped inside. Grace watched as he ran a hand over the sleek neck of the dark gray horse. He rubbed the same hand down the horse’s legs, checking his hooves, then ran a hand across his back. He stepped around the back of the horse, patting his rump as he moved on to the other side. Grace leaned against the post of the stall as the inspection continued.

“I can’t imagine you wanting to give him up, Jim.” Brody stepped out of the stall and closed the door.

“Brody, this horse is a special animal. He just seems to get people. If you put a kid on him, he adjusts his entire temperament for that child. He takes care of them. If you’re going to start this camp, I want you to start with horses you can trust. And my grandkids have moved on. Either they needed more horse or they stopped riding altogether.”

Grace thought she saw a shimmer of moisture in Brody’s eyes, but she wouldn’t mention it. He reached out and clasped the other man’s hand.

“I’ll take him, Jim. And I’ll take good care of him.”

The rancher nodded. “I know that, or I wouldn’t have offered. My only stipulation is that if you decide to end the camp, Earl comes back to us.”

“I’ll put it in writing.”

Jim Rockhurst shook his head. “No need. I trust your word.”

The two shook hands again. “I’ll pick him up tomorrow.”

“I’ll have him ready to go. And I’ll make the missus stay inside so she doesn’t chase you down the drive. She loves the idea of giving him to you, but she’s going to miss him something awful.”

“She can visit anytime. She can even volunteer and help out if she’d like.”

Jim walked them back to Brody’s truck. “I know she’d like that.”

On the drive home Grace realized she would miss out. If she left Martin’s Crossing, she wouldn’t see this camp or meet the kids who would have their lives touched by an idea Brody had dreamed up and was bringing to fruition.

“You’re awfully quiet over there,” Brody said as they drove through Martin’s Crossing. “Are you up for lunch at Duke’s?”

“I would like lunch. And I was thinking that this camp is going to be a great thing and I’d like to be involved.”

“Say the word and I’ll find something for you to do.”

She wanted him to ask her to stay, to tell her she had a place in his life. But she couldn’t do that to him. She was going to have a baby who belonged to a man who had been his best friend. She’d made a lot of mistakes, but she wouldn’t hurt this man in that way.

Chapter Thirteen

B
rody parked his truck behind the church on Wednesday night. He sat there for a long time, almost talking himself out of going inside. In the end he tossed his hat on the seat, brushed a hand through his hair and eased gingerly out of the truck. He headed for the back door, one careful step at a time. This was the consequence of overdoing it. That would be the chapter heading if he was writing a book on rheumatoid arthritis.

He grabbed the rail of the steps and managed, because that was what he did. He bundled up the pain, disposed of it and moved on.

As he walked through the classrooms toward the sanctuary, Lilly came out of the youth room and zeroed in on him the way she’d been doing for a year. Got to love this kid, he decided. She was loyal, unshakably loyal.

“Brody, you are in big, big trouble.” She gave him the once-over and shook her head. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. And why am I in big, big trouble?”

“Grace was trying to call you and she was worried.”

“Thought I’d dropped off the face of the earth, did she?” He eased on down the hall, his niece following close by.

“Kind of. She really was worried.”

“I’m sure she was, but I’m here now.” He didn’t know how to tell his twelve-year-old niece it had been a long time since he’d been accountable to someone for his whereabouts.

He’d save that for Grace.

“I’ve got to get back to class,” Lilly hedged, still eyeing him. “You know, you could have let someone know where you were.”

“Got it. Next time, let someone know.”

“Right.” Off she went to storm some other unsuspecting person’s life.

The next person he bumped into, literally, was Grace. She came out the door of the sanctuary as he was going in. He touched her arm and then the wall as pain shot down his leg. It took everything he had not to groan. Grace reached out, restoring him to rights, and gave him the once-over, head to toe. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great.”

“I was worried about you.”

“I went to see Sylvia again. And now I’d like to go sit down.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“Bible study is starting,” he noted, heading into the room and knowing everyone was watching. He took the first pew, where they could look at his back and wonder. Grace slid in next to him.

“But you’re okay?”

“I might have overdone it yesterday with all the walking. I woke up this morning and my knees were pretty swollen and stiff. I guess the drive to Fort Worth and back didn’t help.”

“I’m sure it didn’t.” She sat quietly for a minute, then her hand touched his arm, tweaked the sleeve of his shirt.

He chanced a look at her and found her serious brown eyes studying his face. It shook things loose inside him. And it anchored him. To her.

This was how it felt to have someone. It felt like sitting next to this woman, knowing she cared. She didn’t have to touch him. She didn’t have to say anything. She just had to be there to make his world a little more right than it ever had been.

And that scared the daylights out of him.

The Bible study started and he focused on the lesson, the discussion and not the confusion that was making him question what he had with Grace Thomas. When her hand reached for his during the closing prayer, he handled it.

“I’ll walk out with you. Oregon is parked out back, too.”

He looked down at Grace, at her upturned face, her sweet smile. She didn’t seem in the mood to back down, not if that glint in her dark brown eyes meant anything.

If he was being honest, he wasn’t quite ready to let go of her. It had been a long day. He’d sat with Sylvia and she hadn’t remembered him. For a short time she’d thought he was his father. In the end she’d ordered him out of her room.

“Brody?”

“If you’re going that way, we might as well walk together.”

They took the long walk through the church slowly. He despised weakness. He hated that his body had betrayed him. The grinding in his left knee, even with the brace, was proof that he’d messed up in a big way.

They reached the back door and stepped outside. The full moon shone down, casting a ribbon of silver across the lawn. Cool air brushed over them. Brody breathed in and reached for the hand of the woman on his left. She walked with him down the steps and across the parking lot to his truck.

When they stopped he leaned against the truck, watching her in the pale moonlight. He wasn’t ready to let this moment end. And he knew all their moments were ending. He knew that the way he knew that his body was betraying him. Who wanted a broken-down cowboy? What in the world did he have to offer? A single-wide trailer, a lifetime of fighting a disease and some family issues that could make a great reality show?

She gasped, startling him.

“What’s wrong?”

He glanced down, expecting a frown. Instead, her mouth widened in an O and then spread to form a smile that touched her eyes.

“She kicked,” she said in an awed tone.

“Did she?” He watched as her hand stole to her belly, resting lightly.

“Yes,” she insisted. “Brody, she’s kicking. You have to feel.”

“I don’t think...”

She wouldn’t take no for an answer. She grabbed his hand and placed it where hers had been, holding it there. “Wait for it.”

And then he felt it, that tiny thump as a little foot engaged. He held his hand there a few seconds longer and then he pulled away, because it wasn’t his moment. But deep down, he wanted it to be his. He wanted to have the right to stand there with her, sharing all the moments that would matter.

“Thank you,” he said as he moved back, putting space between them.

Her hand stole to his cheek, brushing across his jaw and then down to his shoulder.

“You’re a good man. Maybe the best man I know.”

“I’m just a man, Grace. Not the best. Not the worst.” But he loved her. Man, he loved her. And given half a chance, he’d cowboy up and be the husband she deserved and the father her little baby needed him to be.

He wanted that place in her life. He wanted it more than he could ever have imagined.

“Kiss me, Brody.”

The command was soft and it lured him. He guessed she probably intended that reaction from him. He’d never been one to turn down a woman. He touched his lips to hers, kissing her the way a woman ought to be kissed. She clung to his arms as he leaned against the truck, held her close. He raised his head and, staring into those dark eyes of hers, he got a little bit lost all over again. He brushed his lips against hers one last time, tangled his fingers in blond hair that wrapped like silk around his fingers, capturing him.

“Go home, Grace.” He ground out the words as he backed away from her.

She shook her head. “What?”

“Go home to Fort Worth.”

“I’m not prepared to let you tell me what to do, Brody. Especially when just five seconds ago me leaving seemed like the last thing on your mind. So why do you think you have the right to tell me to leave?”

That was a pretty good question, one he didn’t have a real answer for. She had to get back to her life, to her family. He had to get control of his life, and that was hard to do with her living just down the road, all blond hair, deep brown eyes and temptation.

“You don’t have an answer?”

“No, I guess I don’t.”

Every now and then when he felt as if he was falling for her all over again, he remembered how it had felt to sit across the table from her with a ring in his pocket as she told him she thought they should see other people. She wasn’t ready to get serious. She had a plan that included getting her degree, getting a job at a hospital in Fort Worth and then someday settling down.

“Brody, let me do something for you tonight. I know you’re hurting and there’s no reason you can’t let a friend...”

He put a hand up to stop her. “I’m fine. I got a shot today and it’s already starting to help.” He bent his knee to prove his point and he immediately regretted the move. She didn’t have to know that.

“Yeah, you’re fine.”

“I’m fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She nodded and retreated to the sidewalk.

He climbed in his truck and drove away, wishing that he could go back to the woman in his rearview mirror. She stood in the parking lot for a moment, then she joined Oregon at her car.

Knowing his limits, when he got home he parked his truck right in front of his trailer. From inside he heard the dog barking, first in warning and then demanding he get the door open. When he did, Sally ran out, circled his legs and then ran down the steps to do her business in the yard.

“Come inside,” Brody left the door open and went in. He poured himself a glass of tea and crashed in his recliner.

The dog raced through the door, then back out again, barking at something before she ran back inside a second time. Brody patted the arm of the chair. “Get up here, you.”

Sally jumped on the footstool of the recliner and started licking Brody’s boots. “Crazy animal.”

The white head cocked to one side and a happy tongue lolled out of the corner of the dog’s mouth. Brody reached to run a hand over her head. He closed his eyes, sighed with pure pleasure. Home felt pretty good.

He must have dozed off because he jerked awake when Sally jumped up, barking with fierceness of a German shepherd even as she cowered next to Brody. He’d left the door open. Not a good move. He didn’t want to wake up with an armadillo snuffling around inside his house.

“Go back to sleep. It’s probably an armadillo.”

Sally growled, as vicious as a dust mop could possibly be. And that wasn’t very vicious. “Fine, I’ll close the door.”

He started to push the recliner down when he saw a shadow cross the door. Great. Just what he needed was a prowler tonight. Or Lincoln. He really didn’t feel like fighting Lincoln tonight. But he would.

As he started to get up, Grace stepped into view.

* * *

Grace walked up the steps and through the front door of the trailer. She should have thought more clearly about this plan. She’d told Oregon she was going to check on him and Oregon had kept her opinion to herself, only cautioning her to be careful.

“What are you doing here?” Brody was stretched out on the recliner, his dog next to him. The dog’s tail wagged now, and it whimpered rather than the high-pitched barking of moments ago.

“I’m here to check on you. Maybe you could be more appreciative.”

“You shouldn’t have walked down here. I have a phone if you want to check on me.”

“Brody, you’re the most stubborn man I know.”

“Probably.” He stretched and groaned.

Grace helped herself to his kitchen, rummaged through the freezer and found bags of peas. She returned, bringing a chair from the dining room table with her. Brody had closed his eyes but he opened them now. Clear blue stared up at her from a face she longed to touch. She wanted to smooth his brow. She wanted to touch the dimple in the smooth plane of his cheek.

She sat the chair next to him and took a seat, settling the bags of peas on his knees. “The cold will help the inflammation.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Right, he was a bull rider, a rancher, a man. He knew about ice packs. She was sure he didn’t keep frozen peas in the freezer for evening meals. “Of course you know.”

“Thank you, Grace.” His voice was husky and soft. She avoided looking at him.

“I’ll get you another glass of tea and...” She stood, reached for the glass. “Is there anything else?”

“My evening meds are on the counter.”

“Gotcha.”

Her hands shook as she opened the bottle of pills. Her heart trembled when she sneaked a peek at the man in the chair, his eyes closed. She should go. She shouldn’t be here, opening them both up to heartache.

She sat down next to him and held out the glass of water and the pills. “Brody?”

He opened his eyes and smiled. “You’re a good nurse.”

“I’m not a nurse. Remember, I ran away from responsibility.”

“You’re running back to it. You’ll get there, Gracie.”

She hoped he was right.

He took the pills and set the water glass down on the table. His hand reached for hers. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, why?”

“Your eyes tell more than you can imagine. What are you afraid of?”

“I’m afraid I can’t go back. I’m going to have a baby. Sometimes I can think this belly and the little butterfly flutters in there are something detached from my life. It’s a baby, but right now it doesn’t always feel real. But in a few months it will be very real. It will be a living, breathing little person who has demands and needs. Right now I’m still thinking about my plans and my dreams. But it’ll all change. Every decision I make will be affected by this baby growing inside me.”

His thumb brushed the top of her hand, rough but gentle against her skin. “Now I’m afraid.”

“Stop. I’m serious.”

“I know you are. I know. But you’ll do it because you’re determined and because that little guy of yours is going to need you.”

“Girl.”

His hand stilled over hers. “Right, girl. Or maybe both!”

“I’m not having twins. That would be...”

“It happens.”

“You’re distracting me.”

He sighed and slowly lifted her hand to his mouth, kissing lightly before placing her hand back on the arm of the chair. “Yeah, I’m good at that. I’m all smoke and mirrors.”

“No, you’re not. You’re real and genuine and I needed to be here because you’re also my friend.”

“Yes, I’m your friend.” He said it as if it was the worst thing ever. And she didn’t want it to be that. “You’re going to be afraid, Grace. You’re having a baby. A little human being is going to depend on you for everything. That’s huge. But it isn’t anything you can’t do.”

“Thank you.” She leaned and kissed his cheek. “You’re going to be a good dad someday.”

“Right, of course I will. Hopefully by the time I have kids I can still teach them to ride their first pony and take them fishing.”

“Brody...”

“No, you get your fears. I get to own mine.”

“Then, can I say both of our fears are unfounded?”

“You can say that.” His dimple appeared. That one, distracting dimple near the left corner of his mouth.