The Rancher's Rescue

Her mom handed her the handheld register scanner. “It’s acting up and Todd has a rather large order.”

Grace checked the scanner connections and handed it to her sister. “Should be fine now.”

“There are several customers waiting.” Their mother tugged the scanner from Sarah Ashley’s grip and thrust it back at Grace. “You have more practice on the register.”

Sarah Ashley wouldn’t get practice if their mother wouldn’t let her work. Grace gripped the scanner and greeted Todd Webster. “Let’s get you checked out and on your way.”

Grace was hoping for a speedy exit herself, but her mother had other ideas. “When you finish here, your dad needs you in the warehouse. The shipment for lawn and garden is arriving early and the plants need to be sorted and priced.”

“I can handle that,” Sarah Ashley offered. Her easygoing tone matched her relaxed smile, but her narrowed gaze challenged their mother to come up with a good reason to deny her.

But their mother had brought up three daughters without ever raising her voice and perfected the art of misdirection. “Grace can handle it. Did you know Ethan Blackwell was in the store this morning?”

Sarah Ashley flashed her three-carat, square-cut diamond ring at their mother. “I’m married now.”

“Married, but living with your parents,” said their father, who trundled past, looking over his glasses at them as he pushed a cart loaded with potting soil toward the garden section. “Without your husband.”

Mom set her hand on Sarah Ashley’s arm. “Your dad is frustrated. You know we’d do anything to make you happy.”

“This needs more than an antiseptic wipe and bandage.” Sarah Ashley carefully wrapped a ceramic pot in paper, bagged it and handed it to their last customer.

“If you’d talk to us, Sarah Ashley, we could help,” their mom said.

“I know.” Sarah Ashley straightened the pencils in the tin can holder until every tip faced down and then looked at them. “But this is something I have to do on my own.”

Grace wasn’t certain what her sister meant by this. She’d caught Sarah Ashley on the computer once, searching for online business classes. Every night she overheard her sister tell her husband that she wasn’t ready to come home yet.

All seemed fine, but Sarah Ashley never did anything without someone to lean on, be it their parents, her best friends or ex-boyfriends. Sarah Ashley never used to spend more than five minutes in the store on any given day until now, and now Grace was always cleaning up after her sister’s screwups.

“Just remember, you have family who are always here for you.” Their mother nodded at Grace.

Grace’s smile felt stiff and false. She tried harder, but her family didn’t ever rely on Sarah Ashley. They only ever relied on Grace and she’d never minded. Until now. She wanted to step out on her own and start her business. But how would they get along at the store without her? How could she abandon her family and then expect them to help when the baby arrived? Her baby with her sister’s ex-boyfriend. Her stomach dropped to her toes as if she’d been caught skimming from the cash register.

“Thanks, Mom.” Sarah Ashley hugged their mother. Alice Gardner was a petite, farm-raised powerhouse while Sarah Ashley was tall, her movements fluid like a dancer’s. Sarah Ashley looked like she should be twirling around a candle-lit ballroom in a waltz, not stacking bags of fertilizer. “I’m here now and happy to work.”

Their mother searched the store as if seeking an intervention from the mannequins. The resident store cat, Whiskers, meowed and rubbed on the edge of the counter. Their mother grabbed the large gray cat like he was the answer to her lifelong quest. “Your sister already inventoried the pet supplies and women’s attire. We’ll tackle the staff schedule and payroll next, after we place several reorders.”

Sarah Ashley smiled and nodded. “I can help with that.”

“Grace has always taken care of that with me.” Their mom handed Whiskers to Sarah Ashley. “Why don’t you check on your grandfather and his friends? Make sure they have enough sweet tea and water. Then you can wash off the stools on the porch.”

Sarah Ashley eyed her mother and frowned as if she’d been asked to sit at the kids’ table for Christmas dinner and sip sparkling cider. “You want me to wash the milk cans? No one ever does that, and shouldn’t Pops and his friends get their own drinks? You’re always saying that it isn’t good for them to sit all day.”

Their mother looked chagrined. “Well, uh...”

Grace was surprised their mother could suggest cleaning the milk can stools with a straight face. Sarah Ashley was right. That hadn’t ever been done since Grace started working in the store as a teenager. It was also true that their mother reminded Pops daily that she wasn’t running a restaurant. And if he or his friends wanted drinks or food, they needed to walk into the breakroom and get it like everyone else. It was their mother’s way of ensuring her father exercised his hips, having had both replaced over the last five years.

Her mother touched Sarah Ashley’s cheek. “You don’t want to do anything that might make you dizzy or light-headed. You wouldn’t want to fall again.”

Grace bit down on the inside of her cheek. Sarah Ashley had fallen off a ladder in the warehouse as a child and hit her head. Their father had then forbidden the girls to climb on the ladders or shelves after that. Sarah Ashley had claimed she’d been trying to organize some stock, got dizzy and fell. Their parents had given Sarah Ashley a reprieve from all her chores and household duties. Grace had been more than happy to step in for her injured sister. She just hadn’t expected to continue stepping in for her sister for the rest of their lives. Sarah Ashley had been hurt in the fall more than a decade earlier and hadn’t suffered any similar incident since.

“I’ll take care of it.” Sarah Ashley hugged the cat, her voice low and quiet.

Resentment laced both her sister’s tone and face. But that couldn’t be right. Sarah Ashley had never been inclined to get involved with the store. What was Sarah Ashley’s angle? After the warehouse incident, her sister had been more than willing to embrace her newly acquired princess status and she’d never relinquished it. Was her sister trying to impress Ethan? Grace doubted that, given her sister didn’t seem interested in his visit earlier.

Their dad peered around the swinging door and called for Grace. She’d never been banned from the warehouse. Not once. Nausea washed over her, slowing her steps. She’d never resented her sister’s princess status, but right now, she wanted to know how to get treated like that herself. Even if only for five minutes.

* * *

SARAH ASHLEY CUDDLED WHISKERS, his welcome purr vibrated against her neck as she whispered, “Once you settle onto the pedestal, Whiskers, it’s impossible to get off.” Sure she’d been satisfied, more than content with her favored position among family and friends. But then she’d married.

The first month of being Mrs. Alec Landry had been as ideal as she’d expected. Her husband followed that by declaring his expectations for their marriage. For her specifically. Specifically, Alec had wanted to start their family now and expected Sarah Ashley to stay home to raise their children. But Sarah Ashley’s pedestal had room enough for only one, or so she’d told Alec. She’d also added that she expected nannies and housekeepers to assist her. Alec’s laughter and accusations that she couldn’t do anything on her own still ricocheted through her.

She’d packed her bags and left their apartment to move back home all on her own that same night. But she’d been in Falcon Creek for three weeks and had yet to do anything else to prove herself.

Unlike Grace, her younger sister. Everyone trusted Grace. Never questioned Grace’s abilities. Never put Grace on a pedestal. The answer was simple: Sarah Ashley needed to get off her pedestal and soon.

She watched Grace shove another mint in her mouth as if she’d binged on garlic sausage at the Clearwater Café for breakfast and was waging war against bad breath. Sarah Ashley thought it odd that she hadn’t seen her little sister eat much more than crackers and mints in the last few weeks. Yet the caretaker role had always fit Sarah Ashley like last season’s wool sweater shrunk in the dryer, itchy and too tight. Although she’d always welcomed concern and pampering for herself, even she recognized that wouldn’t make her a good mother or a better person. Was it possible she lacked the skills to be a capable mother?

Stepping onto the wide front porch, she set Whiskers in Pops’s lap and left her own doubts on her pedestal. “Who needs a refill?”

“Hello, Sarah-Snowberry-Ashley.” Pops grinned, his usual lopsided quirk of his lips that had been there since she’d learned to climb into his lap as a toddler. He patted the milk stool beside him. “Come and sit with us for a spell.”

Sarah Ashley sat because she loved her grandfather and had been raised not to question her elders. But she was tired of sitting and looking pretty, like the field of wild snowberry flowers her grandfather had always compared her to. Yet sitting around wouldn’t prove Alec wrong.

“When’s that successful husband of yours coming to visit?” Pops asked.

“Work has him traveling,” Sarah Ashley hedged. “I’m sure he’ll stop in when he’s back in Billings for more than a day.” Or when she agreed to do more than talk to Alec on the phone. Her husband wanted his princess home. But Sarah Ashley wasn’t returning to him until she’d proven she was a queen, capable of much more than looking pretty on her throne.

To do that she needed to change how everyone viewed her. She rose and kissed Pops’s cheek. “Time for me to get back to work.”

CHAPTER THREE

“GOOD MORNING, GRACE.”

Grace gaped and slowed on the porch steps of Brewster’s. The other half of her child’s DNA sat across from Pops. Ethan in his worn boots, faded flannel shirt and baseball cap smiled at her, stirring warmth through her. He returned his attention to the chessboard as if he’d been playing with her grandfather for years. As if this was their morning routine. As if he belonged here on this porch, waiting for her.

Waiting for her to confess.

Grace’s hand drifted to her stomach, her slight bump concealed beneath her jacket. Why did the truth have to be so complicated?

Still she couldn’t quite stall that swirl of warmth inside her from seeing Ethan.

She should be hot from irritation. She should be annoyed with Ethan for intruding on her usual morning routine. She always shared coffee and stories with her grandfather before the store opened. Before the other employees arrived. Before the customers took over the day.

Except this morning, they were a trio, rather than a duo. What was it with people inserting themselves where they didn’t belong? First, there was Sarah Ashley trying to step into the family business for the first time ever, and now, Ethan.

Was it so wrong that Grace wanted one thing to remain the same? To remain normal? In six months, nothing about her life would be either. But she could at least have her usual mornings with Pops, couldn’t she? Surely that wasn’t too much to ask.

“Sit down, Gracie.” Pops pointed at the empty rocking chair beside Ethan. The same one she sat in every morning while she listened to Pops reminisce about her grandmother or his childhood. “Your Ethan here, he already took care of your morning chores for you.” He eyed Ethan over the rims of his glasses and grinned. “Can’t ever get this girl to sit. But I got her good this morning, thanks to you.”

“I can make more coffee.” Ethan’s hand was on a stack of file folders. He glanced at her, and his guarded tone suggested he thought she needed several cups to tackle the Blackwell books.

“I’ve been making the effort to switch to tea.” Grace reached inside her purse for her special ginger tea. She was going to need to steep more than one bag this morning. Sitting next to Ethan was unsettling. She cleared her throat to smooth the accusation out of her voice and looked at him. “You’re up early.”

“Trying to get some errands done before Katie notices I’ve left.” Ethan placed a hand on his white knight and started to move the piece, but then paused to consider the chessboard as if everything hinged on this one particular move.

Whereas for Grace, everything hinged on her baby and keeping her stomach from objecting to the morning’s excitement. Would Ethan expect her to say checkmate when she told him about the baby? As if she’d neatly trapped him into being a dad. And what about marriage? She didn’t want Ethan to offer to marry her because she was carrying his child. But would he believe her?

“Keeping ahead of Katie Montgomery is almost as impossible as staying a step ahead of our Gracie.” Pops stuck his elbows out and leaned on his knees, as if anticipating Ethan’s move. As if Ethan proved a challenge to her grandfather. Ethan shifted his knight, taking Pops’s bishop. Pops rubbed his chin. “Sometimes you get lucky.”

Maybe Grace would get lucky and Ethan would confess he’d always wanted to be a father and couldn’t think of another person he wanted to have a child with other than Grace. The tea bag crinkled in her fist. What a ridiculous thought.

Only fools relied on luck. Or her sisters. Especially Sarah Ashley, who had proclaimed her good fortune at meeting Alec in an elevator in Billings. Had she not been running late for a job interview—Sarah Ashley had been late for her own birth by five days and hadn’t ever caught up—she’d have missed Alec’s elevator completely. Sarah Ashley believed fate wanted her to be late. Grace believed in punctuality and relying on herself to ensure her own good fortune.

Ethan picked up Pops’s bishop and used the chess piece to point down the street. “I’m just hoping the bank opens before the hedgehog arrives.”

“Hedgehog?” Grace repeated, trying to latch onto something logical. Yet there was nothing logical about a hedgehog’s arrival in Falcon Creek. Or sitting beside Ethan, while he played chess with Pops. She considered betting on luck.

“Zoe decided the ranch needed a petting zoo.” Ethan’s voice dipped low with disapproval.

Grace pretended Ethan censured her for thinking for one second she could believe in fate to right her world. “But I thought Zoe had left in the motor home with Big E.”

“She ordered the animals before they drove off.” Ethan slid back in his chair and waited for Pops to make his next move. “Animals have been arriving since last week.”

Pops grimaced. “That woman is her own walking zoo with all the fur she wears. She certainly likes to live a pampered life.”

Grace never wanted to be coddled. But she wouldn’t object to an hour of pampering.

Ethan rubbed his hand over his mouth, but laughter escaped.

Grace, trying to rock a scold into her voice for her own sake and her grandfather’s, said, “Pops, you told me never to talk unkindly about our neighbors. They might need us someday or we might need them, right?”

“Zoe Petit would be the last person I’d be looking to if I needed help opening Brewster’s front door.” Pops removed his cowboy hat and scrubbed his fingers through his silver hair, his focus remained on the chessboard as if Ethan’s move had really stumped him. “No offense, son.”

“She isn’t my grandmother. She’s wife number six.” Ethan’s voice was detached and his tone flat as if he were rattling off the phone number for the dry cleaner two towns over.

Would he be just as detached when she told him about the baby? Would his sense of responsibility force him to offer to marry her in that same flat tone?

Grace shifted to study Ethan’s profile without being too obvious. He seemed so sober. She wondered if Ethan would be like Big E, constantly searching for a better bride. Or would Ethan find one woman and stick with that one marriage like Grace’s parents and grandparents? She gripped the chair arms and shook her head. Ethan Blackwell and his marrying preferences were the least of her concerns.

“That was five wives too many.” Pops edged his knight toward the center of the board. “I bet Big E is looking for a place to hide from Zoe right this minute. He has to be worn-out from all the money she likes to spend on silly, expensive things.”

Grace admonished her grandfather, drawing out Pops’s name into a three-syllable word.

He shrugged and eyed Ethan. “A flea has more ranch in it than that woman.”

Ethan made a counterattack and earned a grunt of approval from Pops.

“Your grandmother, Dorothy Blackwell, was just like my Sandy. Thoughtful, caring and loyal.” Pops defended his king and focused on Ethan. His voice lowered, dipping into the serious as if he was about to impart the one secret to life. “Find a woman like them, son, and you keep ’em forever.”

Pops tipped his chin toward Grace, but held Ethan’s stare.

Surely her grandfather hadn’t just suggested Ethan keep Grace. Pops grew up with seven brothers. He’d never been taught the sister code, didn’t know the lesson about little sisters not dating their older sister’s ex-boyfriend. Grace jumped up. “Since I have some time before we open here, I’m going to head over to South Corner Drug & Sundries.”

“I’ll join you.” Ethan stood and stretched his arms over his head.

“That’s not necessary.” Grace reached down for her purse, but the leather strap hooked on her shoe.

“I need special supplements mixed for one of the mares.” Ethan freed her purse, but the frenzy inside Grace failed to disappear. Ethan continued, his voice calm, as if he knew Grace needed a distraction, “Zoe decided both mares should have foals at the same time. Better photo opportunities for the guests at the ranch.”

“Fleas have more sense.” Pops’s scowl was etched deep in his gruff voice.

And Grace had lost her sense too. Grace snatched her purse from Ethan, snatching her common sense back, and hurried to leave.

“Gracie, slow down and let your Ethan walk with you,” Pops called out. “Everyone’s in such a rush these days.”

Grace was in a rush all right. A rush to get away from Ethan and her grandfather’s innuendos. Why did Pops insist on referring to Ethan as her Ethan? He wasn’t hers any more than the falcons belonged to Falcon Creek.

Ethan’s long strides matched hers with ease. At least she’d escaped Pops’s speculation. Ethan would prove harder to deter. She had one confession that might send him running. The words lodged in her throat again. “Sorry about Pops.”

“There’s no need.” Ethan turned his baseball cap around and pulled the bill low on his forehead, as if he wanted to conceal his face from onlookers. As if he didn’t want to be seen with Grace.

Ethan added, “I’d spend the day on the porch with Pops if I could.”

Grace glanced at him. His voice lacked sarcasm and his expression was thoughtful. His sincerity touched her and she forgave him for not wanting to be seen with her. After all, she adored her grandfather and liked anyone who cared about Pops. “He requires a good dose of patience. Too much for most of the locals.”

Ethan held open the door to South Corner Drug and motioned Grace inside. “I’m not most people.”

She knew that all too well. He was the father of her child. Yet he hadn’t brought up their night together. Not once. Clearly, he wanted to forget that night had ever happened. There’d be no forgetting once she found her courage, but blurting out the truth inside South Corner Drug was a surefire way to spark a Falcon Creek uproar.

Grace beelined for the feminine products aisle and found her first deep breath. As she’d suspected, Ethan had headed away from her. He was shaking hands with the pharmacist, Theo Watkins.

Grace turned left at the end of the aisle and spotted the candy.

Adeline Conrad called out to her from the checkout counter. “Grace, we have your ginger pops back in stock.”

Grace smiled at her high school debate team partner and snatched the last three large bags of peppermint candy from the shelf. She wanted to have made her purchase before Ethan finished his conversation. But fate seemed to be in a nasty mood that morning and clearly had different intentions.

Ethan appeared at her side as if destiny had put him there. That same warmth she’d felt on the porch earlier spiraled through her at Ethan’s nearness. As if she welcomed his strong presence beside her. As if she counted on him being beside her. Good thing she never trusted destiny or she might believe what she felt was something other than her morning sickness making her cheeks flush and pulse race.

“The candy bowls at Brewster’s looked quite full the other day, unless I missed one.” He tapped the top bag of peppermint candy and eyed her. Laughter softened his blue gaze, pulling her in.

They both knew Ethan never missed a candy bowl. He’d had more than one sweet tooth just like her grandfather for as long as Grace could remember. She’d never understood why Sarah Ashley hadn’t simply baked cookies or bought brownies for Ethan whenever she’d needed to apologize to him. Had Ethan been her boyfriend, Grace would’ve taken up baking and shared every dessert with him.

She didn’t have time to get lost in blue eyes and charming smiles and decadent dessert recipes. “I like to be prepared.”

“For the peppermint rush.” Ethan walked beside her toward the cash register.

Adeline smiled at them like they’d won the Thursday night bingo challenge at the community center in Livingston, before she dropped four bags of ginger pops on the counter to add to Grace’s peppermint candy. Ethan reached for one of the lollipop bags. Grace reached toward the row of coconut-flavored lip balm, extending her arm in front of Ethan and knocking his hand away from the ginger candy. Grace latched onto the oval containers and tossed several lip balms on her pile.

Ethan grabbed the packages of lip balm and juggled three to Adeline’s delight. He asked, “Does the coconut lip balm enhance the peppermint flavor of the candy?”

Adeline watched the pair of them banter, her gaze jumping from one to the other, as if she were forming a response to land her the Montana State Debate title.

Grace shoved her items into a plastic bag, taking over Adeline’s job duties and tossed her cash on the empty counter.

Adeline gathered the money without taking her attention away from Grace and Ethan. “You two come back soon.”

Grace wasn’t coming back anytime soon. The speculation in Adeline’s gaze would only intensify to head-popping explosion once the town learned about Grace’s pregnancy. Internet shopping was all the rage now, anyway. It was past time she joined in.

On the sidewalk, and far enough away from Sundries employees with eavesdropping habits, Grace blurted, “Was that the account paperwork and receipts from the Blackwell Ranch in those folders?”

Ethan shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and stared down Front Street. “Big E has an old-fashioned accounting method.”

“At least he has a method.” If Grace could translate Big E’s system quickly and organize the books, she’d be done working for the Blackwells before the end of the week. That gave her three days to tell him about the baby.

“The books aren’t really portable. Only the bank statements are in the folders I left those on the table beside Pops. If you need more, and you will to solve this accounting fiasco, it’ll be best if you come up to the ranch.” Ethan kicked a stone down the sidewalk. His voice sounded gravelly, as if he wasn’t quite certain about his offer.

As if he wasn’t glad about spending more time with Grace. On his family’s land. In his family’s house. Grace switched the bag to her right hand, holding it between Ethan and herself. Surely she’d find a moment to talk to him at the Blackwell Ranch. Three days offered plenty of opportunities. Like right now. Grace opened her mouth.

But Ethan misinterpreted her silence and filled the space between them with an uncomfortable truth. “Look, we really need your help. I really need you. We have a family of thirty checking in later this month. We can’t cancel their reservation because we can’t pay back their deposit. There’s no money.”