To Trust A Rancher

“Noah.” Becca tugged at his hand. “It’s not here.”

“It’s in the car.”

“No, it’s not...”

Ryder felt a surge of relief. He didn’t know what had given him the sick feeling that something had happened to his sister. If that were true, she wouldn’t be buying the kid toys. “Hey, sport, when did your aunt buy you the truck?”

“Sport?” The boy wrinkled his nose. “My name is Noah.”

“Ah.” Ryder knew Becca was watching them closely, and something sure was making her jumpy. What the hell did she think he was going to do to her kid? “Sorry. Noah.”

“What’s your name?”

“Ryder.” He stuck his hand out. “Pleased to meet you, Noah.”

The little guy just frowned at his hand at first, then looked at Becca.

She smiled at him. “It’s okay, sweetie,” she said, brushing the hair out of his eyes. “Ryder just wants to shake your hand.”

His mouth formed an “oh” but without the sound, then he slapped his palm against Ryder’s and started giggling.

In spite of himself, Ryder smiled. Whatever was up with Amy wasn’t the kid’s fault. “That’s quite a grip you’ve got there,” he said as his hand swallowed Noah’s.

“Becca! Oh, my goodness!”

At the sound of his mom’s voice, Ryder flinched. Why now? Dammit.

Becca jumped.

He turned and watched his mom, gripping the cart with one hand and her cane with the other, hurrying toward them.

“Hello, Mrs. Mitchell.” Becca’s gaze flew to the cane.

She looked as if she didn’t know how she should greet his mom, which really pissed him off. Becca had spent most of her teens at their ranch, eaten a lot of dinners with the family. He was seven years older than Amy and hadn’t paid much attention to her and her friends, but he remembered that Becca loved horses. Always wanted to hang around the stables. She’d been close to her grandparents, but the Hancocks weren’t ranchers.

Becca finally stepped forward and embraced his mom in an earnest hug. When she moved back, he saw the tears in her eyes before she blinked them away.

The relief he’d felt over Amy disappeared. Something was wrong. And damned if he wouldn’t wring every last detail out of her.

Chapter Four

Becca shouldn’t have been surprised to run into Amy’s mom and brother. Less than twenty-five hundred people lived in the county and half of them ended up in town for one reason or another most days.

“So when did you arrive?” Mrs. Mitchell asked, her hopeful gaze sweeping the area. “Amy didn’t mention you all were coming. She’s here with you, isn’t she?”

Becca felt terrible over the woman’s attempt to sound casual when she was anything but. She swallowed and made the mistake of glancing at Ryder. The contempt in his eyes startled her. While he hadn’t jumped for joy over seeing her, he’d been okay a few moments ago.

She refocused on Mrs. Mitchell. “No, I’m sorry,” Becca said, saddened by the woman’s obvious disappointment. A mother never gave up hope. Becca understood that now. “Amy wanted to come, but the trip was a last-minute decision on my part and she already had plans.” Becca paused. “She sends her love, though.”

The ensuing silence couldn’t have been more awkward. Becca wanted to disappear. Gail Mitchell had always been so kind to her. Becca could’ve tried to sound more convincing.

Mrs. Mitchell gave her a resigned smile. “Well, I’m very glad to see you, Becca. You look all grown-up, and so pretty,” she said with a brief glance at her son. “Isn’t she pretty, Ryder?”

Heat stung Becca’s cheeks. She tried not to look at him. He hadn’t responded, which was more than okay with her. Except then she had to look, couldn’t stop herself.

He hadn’t changed all that much in the seven years. His chest and shoulders looked a bit broader, but then ranching tended to breed muscular men. His sandy-brown hair was longer now, waving just above his shirt collar very much like—

Stricken by a sudden realization, she jerked her gaze up and met Ryder’s dark blue eyes.

Why hadn’t she seen the resemblance before?

“Mommy?” Noah frowned up at her. “Mommy, what’s wrong?”

She held back a sigh. “Nothing, sweetie,” she said, giving him a smile.

Gail blinked at him, as if seeing him for the first time. “And who is this adorable young man?” She bent down to Noah’s level, and Ryder was instantly at her side, holding on to her arm while she leaned heavily on the cane.

Becca’s gaze went straight to the stubborn wave in his hair in the exact spot and angle as Noah’s.

At one point in her teens, she could’ve described Ryder down to the very last detail. She’d been such a pathetic cliché, crushing on her best friend’s older brother. “Noah, this is Mrs. Mitchell. Answer her, please.”

“I’m Noah.” He grinned big. “You wanna see my truck?”

Mrs. Mitchell laughed. Even Ryder smiled.

“Of course I do. Where is it?” She pretended to look around for it. “Is it in your pocket?”

“No.” Gurgling with laughter, he leaned into Becca. “It’s too big.”

Mrs. Mitchell beamed at him, her glow of delight taking years off her face. How had she aged so much since the last time Becca had been home? Her short dark hair had streaks of gray and there were new lines on her face that Becca doubted were from laughter. And a cane? What could have happened?

Becca resisted the urge to pull Noah closer. Cling to him for all she was worth. How could she have forgotten...

This woman was Noah’s grandmother.

“So, where did you put it?” the older woman asked him.

He shrugged his shoulders. “It might be in the room,” he mumbled, distracted by a child sitting in a cart passing them. The little boy was licking an orange pumpkin-shaped sucker and eyeing Noah.

“The room?” Clearly puzzled, Mrs. Mitchell looked at Becca. “Where are you staying?”

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Noah whined, and Becca couldn’t have been happier for the interruption.

“I know. But you need to keep your voice down, and what have I told you about interrupting grown-ups when they’re talking?”

Noah muttered an apology, though he was far more interested in keeping track of the lollipop.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Mitchell, but it was a long drive and I really should go feed him so he can take a nap.”

“Don’t you worry. I understand all too well. This one here,” she said, inclining her head at Ryder as he helped her straighten, “he would’ve eaten twenty-four seven if I’d let him. I doubt he ever went long enough between snacks to be hungry. And mind you, it lasted until he left for college.”

“Oh, please don’t tell me that,” Becca said, laughing. “My food bill is already more than my rent.”

“Come on, Mom, let’s go,” Ryder said. “She needs to feed the boy.”

“I really do.” Becca smiled. “But it was so nice seeing you, Mrs. Mitchell. And you, Ryder.”

He didn’t respond. She wasn’t surprised. Something had triggered his apparent disdain for her. Did he think she should’ve dragged Amy here under protest?

“For heaven’s sake, you’re an adult now. Call me Gail. How long will you be here? I’d love to have you come to the ranch for a visit.”

Ryder had gotten his mom moving. She’d taken a few steps but stopped, waiting for Becca’s answer. Ryder’s piercing stare was unreadable. Regardless, if Gail wasn’t there, Becca didn’t doubt that she and Ryder would be having an entirely different conversation.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Becca told her. “How’s that?”

Gail’s face lit up. “You still have the number?”

Becca nodded.

“Oh, and where is it that you’re staying?”

“At the motel,” Noah announced before Becca could stop him. “There’s a elevato and I get to push the buttons.”

His words tended to run together when he was excited. Becca supposed it was too much to hope that they hadn’t caught the first part.

“The motel?” Gail looked to her for confirmation.

Even Ryder seemed interested.

“Gail?” The shrill voice came from somewhere behind Becca. “Yoo-hoo, over here.” The woman waiting at the deli counter was waving frantically. “Don’t go anywhere. I need to talk to you.”

“Oh, it’s Irma.” Mrs. Mitchell didn’t seem pleased.

“Mommy, that lady intrumted,” Noah said with a mischievous grin.

“I know.” Becca stifled a smile. What a little imp. “Now, say goodbye.”

Gail’s chuckle did nothing to erase her troubled expression. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” she said. “In the meantime, I’m going to throw something out that I’d like you to really think about. We’ve got a lot of room at the ranch and you’re welcome to stay with us. In fact, I would love it. A motel is no place for an active young boy.”

Ryder’s jaw tightened and he pinned her with a hard stare. Clearly he didn’t share his mom’s enthusiasm. He’d be relieved to know Becca wouldn’t accept the offer. Not in a million years.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING, Becca and Noah went down to the lobby to check out the complimentary continental breakfast. Everything from the locally made muffins and cinnamon buns to the bowls of fresh fruit looked amazing. They even offered two varieties of dry cereal. Eating breakfast here every day would give her pocketbook a small boost.

She poured some orange juice and a glass of milk for Noah, and filled a mug of coffee for herself. Of course he had eyes only for the sweets. Becca picked out an apple and a banana and let him have half a cinnamon bun as a special treat.

Patty, the woman behind the front desk, had kindly loaned her a tray so she could carry everything back to their room. Patty had even grabbed a couple of oranges from the back and set them on the tray with a second cinnamon bun despite Becca’s protest.

Ten minutes later, sitting at the small table across from Noah, Becca had finished the bun and her coffee. How could she have forgotten Marge’s cinnamon rolls? Back when she and Amy were teenagers, they’d gone to Marge’s Diner for the sweet gooey buns at least once a week.

The pleasant memory faded in seconds. Becca checked her phone, even knowing it was useless. Still nothing from Amy. Derek’s call had chipped away some of Becca’s hope, but not all of it.

Glancing up, she saw a little arm slowly reaching across the table. “Noah, stop. Finish your banana.”

“No. I want that,” he said, pointing a sticky finger at the other half of the bun, which she’d already wrapped up in a napkin.

“I said you could have half.”

“No!”

“Don’t yell. Drink your milk.”

His cheeks growing pink, he stuck out his lower lip, and she prayed a tantrum wasn’t brewing.

She’d always limited his sugar intake, for the usual health reasons, but also to temper his intermittent outbursts. Isabella had assured her that Noah was no different from any other four-year-old, but that didn’t stop Becca from worrying. She wanted to believe Amy, who swore she hadn’t done any drugs while she was pregnant. In fact, her addiction hadn’t taken hold until after Noah was born. Still, Becca would be a fool to dismiss the possibility.

Fortunately, Noah’s pout gave way to a big yawn.

Neither of them had slept well last night. Becca knew exactly what had made her restless, but she had expected Noah to conk out.

Before she got lost in thoughts of Ryder and Gail and how she would handle the phone call that she’d promised to make, she rose and went around the table to Noah’s side.

She crouched down and slipped her arms around him. “I love you, sweet boy.”

“Love you, too, Mommy.”

She leaned back to look at him. “What do you think about taking a nap?”

His dark blue eyes turned stormy. So much like Ryder’s yesterday that her heart rate doubled. God, she wished she’d never seen the similarity.

“I’m going to lie down, too. I was hoping we could take a nap together.”

Noah frowned, clearly trying to decide if he liked the idea or not.

“Then later, when we wake up, we’ll go for a drive. There are all kinds of horses and cows around here.”

His face brightened. “Where?”

“Not too far from town.”

“Can we pet them?”

“Maybe,” she said, using his napkin to wipe the corner of his mouth. “Finish your milk and banana, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, drawing out the word into a sigh as he picked up his plastic cup.

Becca got to her feet and cleared the table, making sure she hid the remaining half of the cinnamon roll where he couldn’t see it. Maybe they’d split it later.

“Can we ride the horses?” Noah asked, setting down his empty cup and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Horses are very big. And you don’t know how to ride.”

“Do you?”

Becca nodded. “It’s been a long time, though.”

“Will you teach me?”

“We’ll see,” she said, knowing that wouldn’t happen. “Go wash your face and hands, please.”

After putting out the Do-Not-Disturb sign, she pulled back the sheets she’d tidied earlier and fluffed Noah’s pillow. He left the bathroom and headed straight for the bed, not grumbling once. But he didn’t close his eyes until she joined him.

She hadn’t tried to trick him. She welcomed sleep: twenty minutes, a half hour, three hours, whatever she could get. It didn’t take long for the guilt and fear to sink their teeth into her. Forgetting that Noah wasn’t hers by blood was much easier when she wasn’t staring his grandmother and uncle in the face.

In the plus column, Becca knew returning to Blackfoot Falls had been the right thing to do. Here, she was spared the fear that Derek might suddenly show up and drag Noah away. Aside from the Mitchells, and worrying about Amy, her other problem had to do with work.

Her boss was a nice guy but his patience extended only so far. And she needed a paycheck. Soon. Just because she’d left LA didn’t mean she didn’t have to pay her rent. And Isabella, God bless her, had refused the money Becca had tried to give her since it wasn’t her fault she wouldn’t be needed for a week...or two. But Becca preferred to be optimistic.

Later, she figured she’d go take a look at her grandparents’ house. See what kind of shape it was in. Thinking about the modest homestead surrounded by blue sky and open space calmed her. Her pulse had slowed and her eyelids drooped. She snuggled into the pillow and started to drift off...

A knock at the door jarred her awake. She looked over at Noah. Thankfully he hadn’t moved.

She leaped out of bed and raced to the door. Forestalling a second knock, Becca skipped the peephole and pulled the door open. “Ryder?”

He took off his Stetson and ran a hand through his sandy-brown hair. “I hope this isn’t too early.”

“Um, no.” Her heart pounded, and for a second she considered telling him it was a bad time. But not knowing what he wanted would drive her crazy. She glanced back at Noah, who still hadn’t stirred. “Come in,” she whispered, stepping aside to let him pass. “We’ll have to keep our voices down.”

As Ryder crossed the threshold, he saw Noah curled up in the middle of the bed. “I can come back later.”

The faint scent of leather and saddle soap drifted in with him, bringing with it memories of long ago afternoons, her hanging out in the stables with him and his dad, asking endless questions. Until now she hadn’t fully appreciated how patient they’d been with her.

“Now is better,” she said. “We’re going for a drive later.”

“I’d hate to wake him.”

“He’ll be okay. We don’t exactly live in the quietest neighborhood in LA.” She led him to the table, suddenly conscious of her sloppy gray sweatpants and her oversize black sweatshirt sans bra. Not that he’d notice. Anyway, she was too nervous to care. He hadn’t smiled once and she couldn’t imagine what was so important that he’d show up unannounced like this.

She sat in the same chair she’d used earlier, and he took Noah’s. The table was small but perfectly adequate...until Ryder rested his elbows on the wood veneer surface and leaned across it. Her first impulse was to scoot her chair back. Then she realized he’d leaned close so as not to disturb Noah.

A flicker of amusement relaxed his features. “I woke you. Sorry.”

“No,” she said, her hand going to her messy hair. “I was just trying to get Noah to—” Becca sighed. She had a pretty good idea what she looked like. “I might’ve drifted off.”

“This won’t take long,” he murmured in a pitch so low she had to lean forward to hear him. “Have you thought about my mom’s offer?”

Becca should’ve known why he’d come. “Yes, I have. And the answer is no, we won’t be staying at your ranch. So you don’t have to worry about it.”

A wry half grin rested on his well-shaped mouth. “I want you to take her up on it.”

“Why?”

“Come on, Becca, are we really going to do this?”

“Do what?”

He stared silently back at her, though not as if he were considering the question. Ryder looked as he had yesterday. Just plain disgusted.

Pretending to check on Noah, she turned her head. Between Amy’s lies and Becca’s guilt over believing the worst about him, and of course, the biggie—the secret she was keeping from the Mitchells—it was difficult for her to keep all the confusing emotions in check. No telling what her face was giving away.

Something else occurred to her. If Amy had lied to her, she’d probably lied to her family. About what, though? Becca couldn’t ask. No way she could stir that hornet’s nest and expect to come out unscathed.

“Because you owe her,” Ryder finally said.

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