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The Rancher's Unexpected Family
The Rancher's Unexpected Family

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The Rancher's Unexpected Family

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Ash’s words scrambled around in his head. She was right. But he still didn’t know how he should feel about them. The moment he’d discovered he had a daughter, he’d made every effort to do the right thing. It had been a no-brainer to have the required DNA test and then go to court to get custody. As scared as he was about the idea of being a father, she was his daughter, his blood. His parents had been over the moon at the idea of being grandparents and his sisters had immediately embraced Maisy into the family. It was Maisy who dragged her feet. Of course he understood—her mother was dead and she felt alone. But she wasn’t, and that was the most damnable and frustrating thing. He wanted to be her father, if she would just meet him halfway.

He stretched out and closed his eyes as fatigue settled into his muscles. It had been a long few days. Firstly, getting Maisy to agree to come to South Dakota had been challenging, especially when she insisted she was happy to go into the foster-care system. But he didn’t believe her. Sometimes, he was sure he saw glimpses of her actually settling into the life they had together, but her resistance was like a wall she felt she needed to keep up. One he wasn’t sure he could ever break down.

Cole sighed and relaxed against the scratchy sofa. It would work out. He had to believe that. He dozed for a while and when he awoke it was after five o’clock. Maisy was in her room and he tapped on her door and told her they were going up to the main house at six for dinner. He headed to his own room to unpack, and then shower and change. When he returned to the living room Maisy was standing by the fireplace, earbuds in their usual position.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Do I have a choice, Cole?”

The way she used his name made his nerves twitch. “No.”

Her scowl increased. “Then I guess I’m ready.”

They left the cabin and walked up to the house, side by side. Maisy’s arms were tightly crossed and he suspected he was in for one of her dark moods. He’d tried to get her to open up about her mom, but she’d always responded with some snappy retort about how he didn’t know anything about her and it didn’t matter since her mom was dead. And guilt always seemed to manifest itself in him whenever she talked about her mother. For Cole, Deanna was a dim memory. A pretty, young blonde woman he barely recalled. There’d been a lot of women back then. A lot of beds. A lot of meaningless sex and awkward morning-afters. That changed after the accident that almost killed him when he was twenty-seven. He’d spent three weeks in a coma, with a broken back, busted left arm, smashed-up kneecap and so many cuts and bruises he looked like he’d gone through a meat grinder. Four months in hospital, several surgeries and six months of rehab had taught him not to take anything for granted. The accident ended his racing career and drafted him into an early retirement from the track. Now, he managed the team and crew, including his cousin Lance, who was regularly one of the top three drivers in the country at the end of each season. He missed racing, but his cobbled-together bones weren’t able to withstand the endless workout that the NASCAR circuit demanded. And since he’d done everything he could to make sure he didn’t spend his life in a wheelchair, he wasn’t about to do anything that risked his long-term health. Even though the sidelines weren’t as glamourous, didn’t have the adrenaline rush of a podium finish, he could at least live the rest of his life on his feet.

Then he’d met Valerie. Beautiful, smart, self-destructive Valerie. He’d loved her. Married her. Divorced her. And then done his best to forget her.

Cole shook off the memory and walked around the front of the house. He could hear laughter and the sound of clinking crockery. It sounded a whole lot like dinner at his parents’ house and the idea made him smile. He climbed the steps, waited for Maisy to catch up and then tapped on the front screen door.

A woman around sixty, dressed in moleskins and a glittery chambray shirt and boots, appeared behind the screen and gave him a beaming smile. “Well, hello, there. I’m Nancy, Ash’s mother. Please come in.”

Cole introduced himself and Maisy as they were ushered down the hall and into a large dining room. The table in the center of the room was wide and covered in a tablecloth, while dinnerware and an array of platters ran down the center. Dinner was clearly a big deal on the McCune ranch.

There were several other people present—an older man he assumed was her uncle and three kids, a boy and a girl who were clearly siblings of Native American heritage, and a teenage boy with heavily gelled and spiked black hair. He also sported a couple of piercings in his top lip and a dragon tattoo on his neck. Cole wasn’t one to judge, since he’d gone through his own ink stage as a youngster. The older boy, Ricky, shook his hand and then grunted in a friendly sort of way in Maisy’s direction. Ash’s uncle came around the table to shake his hand and once the introductions were done, Nancy said she was heading to the kitchen for a round of drinks.

“Wish it was beer,” Uncle Ted said quietly so that only Cole could hear and grinned.

Another child appeared in the doorway. He had a shock of curly red hair and a face load of freckles. He also had a brace on his left leg and used a cane.

“Hi, I’m Jaye,” he said and ambled slowly toward them, a noticeable hitch in his gait.

Cole didn’t miss the disinterest in Maisy’s expression. “It’s good to meet you, Jaye,” Cole said, and introduced Maisy, who gave a half-hearted wave. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you, too,” the kid said cheerfully. “My mom was talking about you on the phone to someone today,” he said and then frowned a little and shrugged. “Though I probably wasn’t meant to hear it. Or tell you.”

Cole laughed softly. He already liked the boy. “Well, it’ll be our secret, okay?”

Jaye’s freckled face beamed. “Sure thing. Mom doesn’t ever need to know.”

“Mom doesn’t ever need to know what?”

Cole’s gaze instantly shifted to the doorway. Silhouetted in the door frame and wearing a short green dress that shimmied around her thighs and showed off a truly sensational pair of legs, Ash McCune just about dropped him to his knees. He noticed her hair was out of its band and fell just past her shoulders. Cole stared and then swallowed hard, trying to get his wayward thoughts off her smooth calves and the curves that had somehow managed to consume his thoughts for most of the afternoon.

I’m in big trouble.

“Nothing, Mom,” Jaye said and grinned. “Just guy stuff.”

She smiled and Cole’s stomach took a dive. Damn, she was beautiful.

“So you’ve met everyone?” she asked as she came into the room and stood behind her son, dropping her hands onto his shoulders.

“Yes.”

“Mom said you used to be a race car driver,” Jaye said, beaming up at him.

“That’s right.”

The boy’s bright green eyes widened. “I’d love to drive a race car. That would be so cool. Mom said that maybe next year I can enter the soapbox-derby races at the spring fair. I’d like to enter this year though,” he said and shrugged. “I’ve already got a plan drawn up for my cart and—”

“I said next year...maybe,” Ash said and kissed the top of his head. “Now, how about you show Mr. Quartermaine and Maisy to their seats and we can all eat?” she said to the whole room.

A minute later they were all seated and Nancy had returned with a pitcher of homemade lemonade that she placed in the center of the table. Uncle Ted said a short prayer before they ate and everyone stayed quiet, including Maisy. Cole had been raised in a strict Catholic household, but rarely went to church except for weddings and funerals. He found himself seated between Maisy and Uncle Ted, and while his daughter was sullen and uncommunicative during the entire meal, the older man talked incessantly about everything from motor racing to the current price of barley and wheat, and the last time he’d visited the nearby Mount Rushmore. Cole didn’t mind, though. Ted was friendly and personable, telling funny stories about the ranch and his years in the navy. But Cole was distracted. With Ash only a couple of seats away and holding court with the kids, who chatted about their day out, their haircuts and the upcoming spring fair, he couldn’t help but be aware of her as she laughed and bantered with her son and the two youngest children. There was a kind of natural energy around her, and he realized how out of the loop he’d been lately when it came to being around an attractive woman. He hadn’t been on a date for six months. And hadn’t had sex in longer than that.

Almost as though on cue, he met her gaze across the table. She was smiling just a little, as though she had some great secret only she was privy to. He wanted to look away, but couldn’t. Her smile deepened and he watched as she blushed. Whatever was going on, Cole’s instincts told him she was feeling it, too. He gave himself a mental shake, turned his attention back to his food and tried to start a conversation with his daughter, who’d barely spoken a word since they’d sat down for dinner. He managed to get a few sentences out of her and by the time the plates were cleared she was talking quietly to Ricky about music and the latest boy band. He relaxed a bit and pushed back the chair, got up and grabbed a few of the dishes still left on the table. The younger kids and Ted had moved into the adjoining living room to watch television and Cole headed for the kitchen.

Ash was alone, loading the dishwasher, but she stopped the task when she noticed the plates in his hands. “Oh, thanks so much.”

“No problem,” he said and placed them on the counter. “You’re an amazing cook.”

Her mouth curved. “Thank you. But the peach pie was my mom’s doing. Some secret recipe she’s been threatening to share for years, but still hasn’t. Can you cook?”

“Not a lick,” he replied and grinned. “Spoiled, silver spoon, only son—you get the picture.”

She laughed. “Can you make coffee?”

He nodded. “Sure.”

She waved an arm in the direction of the coffeepot. “Then you’re on beverage duty while I keep stacking.”

Cole moved around the counter. “You’re bossy, anyone ever tell you that?”

She laughed again. “Of course. Just ask my son and Uncle Ted.”

He grabbed the coffeepot. “He’s a great kid, by the way.”

“I know,” she said quietly. “And you can ask, if you want.”

Cole rested his behind on the countertop. “Ask?”

“About Jaye,” she explained. “And his condition. He had an accident when he was two and half years old and was badly injured. There were surgeries and—and he...”

“He’s a great kid,” Cole said again when her words trailed off. “That’s all I see.”

She stopped what she was doing and turned, resting her hip against the counter, arms crossed loosely. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not looking at me with the kind of pitying expression I usually get from parents of able-bodied children.”

“I don’t pity you,” he said. “Or Jaye. He’s obviously bright and well-adjusted.”

“Yes. And he loves reading and music and art.”

“And soapbox-derby racing?” he said, one brow raised. “He mentioned several times that he wants to enter this year.”

She nodded. “I know. Maybe next year. I may be an overprotective parent, but I don’t want him to get hurt, either physically or emotionally. The races can be really competitive and some of the other kids and their parents take it so seriously. I don’t want him to be singled out or be disadvantaged because of his disability.”

“That’s a fair call,” he said and rested his hands on the edge of the countertop. “But I don’t imagine you can protect him from soapbox spills or schoolyard bullies twenty-four seven.”

“My son is homeschooled,” she said pointedly. “And you’re right, I can’t watch him every minute of every day. But while he’s still a child, while he’s here under this roof, I’m sure as heck gonna try.”

Cole grinned. She had a lot of spunk. He liked it. He liked her. And it was getting more intense the more time he spent with her. Something had to give. One of them had to say what was now glaringly obvious.

He turned so they were facing one another. The heat between them had ramped up another notch. And then another. “Can I say something that might be highly inappropriate?”

She met his gaze without blinking. “Go ahead.”

He took a breath. “I’m...the thing is... Even though I know it’s kind of crazy because we’ve only just met, I’m really... I’m really attracted to you.”

The air between them was suddenly thick with silence and he immediately expected outrage. But it didn’t come. Instead, she inhaled deeply and spoke. “I know. It’s mutual.”

“But it’s out of the question, right?”

She nodded. “Absolutely.”

“And if I forget that over the course of the next few weeks, will you smack me upside the head to bring me to my senses?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“I think we both know,” he said quietly, “what I want. This is about what’s best. I need to keep my head screwed on straight while I’m here, for Maisy’s sake.”

“I agree.”

She was in agreement. It was all going to work out fine. But still, Cole wasn’t entirely convinced that they could ignore the tension and awareness between them.

He pushed himself off the counter. “Great,” he said as he passed her and headed for the door. When he reached the doorway, he turned. “I think I’ll skip the coffee. And, Ash,” he said, looking into her eyes. “Maybe you shouldn’t wear that sexy little dress anymore. Because it seriously messes with my good intentions.”

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