Rancher At Risk

The local saloon, Ryan surmised, judging by the man’s string tie and red suspenders. He gritted his teeth and tried for a grin. And promised himself he wouldn’t raise a glass in that barroom. “You’re not living up to Caleb’s talk about the town’s friendly reputation, Mr. Baylor. If that’s how you welcome newcomers, I’m surprised you have any customers at all.”

“Customers?” The old man gave a gravelly laugh. “Never heard folks call it that, but I reckon the word works just as well as any other.”

He frowned. “What kind of place are you running?”

The man jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the building behind him. “You’re looking at it, son. This is Town Hall, and I run the courtroom.” After eyeing Ryan for a long moment, he added, “You’re more than welcome to stop by my office anytime. As long as you show up with a clean conscience and without a lawyer in tow.” He nodded once to underscore his words before heading back along the trough-lined path.

Ryan clamped his jaw shut and shook his head over that so-called invitation. What had Caleb told the judge about him, anyhow?

Swearing under his breath, he climbed into the truck and slammed the door shut behind him.

He’d picked a hell of a way to make a first impression on folks in Flagman’s Folly.

Chapter Two

A flash in the mirror above the dresser made Lianne Ward automatically turn toward the doorway of her temporary bedroom. Her sister lumbered into the room, both hands supporting her lower back.

“Here, sit down.” Lianne swept aside the freshly washed clothes she had piled onto the bed. In the two days since her arrival, she hadn’t had a single private moment with Kayla. If her good luck held until Becky came running into the room, maybe she could continue to avoid the conversation she didn’t want to have. If not, she might as well wave a white flag and surrender.

Never argue with a pregnant woman, someone had once said. Great advice, especially with this pregnant woman, who never liked to take no for an answer.

Besides, Kayla could sign.

Sure enough, the minute their gazes met, she started in, using both hands and voice. “You’ve been avoiding one-on-one time with me since you got here. What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, big sis. You don’t expect me to believe that, do you?”

“You’re the big one right now.” What a relief to be able to tease Kayla, to say what she wanted without having to speak slowly, without focusing on each word and every syllable. To talk without thinking about her voice at all. So different from this morning and her run-in with that impossible man who accused her of making assumptions about him. He’d done the same with her....

But didn’t everyone, if not sooner than later?

She loosened her grip on the T-shirt she had intended to fold. If she didn’t watch out, her own sister would start jumping to conclusions. She forced a smile. “It’s only April. Are you sure that baby’s going to wait another three months?”

Kayla was so lucky to have Sam and Becky and another child on the way. But even the mention of the baby didn’t seem to distract her sister now.

Kayla rested her hand on Lianne’s arm, the way she’d always done to get her full attention. “The baby will come when he’s ready. What I don’t understand is why you’re so ready to leave.”

“Miss me already? Don’t worry, you’ll have enough company when Sam’s mom gets here.”

“That’s months away!”

“But if Sharleen hears I’m staying, she might start thinking she’s not needed.”

Kayla circled her right forefinger at her temple, making a sign that needed no words. Obviously, she hadn’t fallen for Lianne’s crazy excuses.

“You know I have to go,” she said gently. “I made a commitment.” And unlike some people, she stuck by her promises. “Besides, I’ll only be a few miles down the road, close enough to come running as soon as Sam texts to let me know you’re in labor. And I’ll be by plenty of times before then. As you said, we’ve got months before the baby comes.”

Kayla shook her head. “What about Becky?”

“She’ll see plenty of me, too.” She took great care in folding another shirt. This visit had been the best break from her troubles she could ever have asked for. The only downside to the past couple of days—other than this morning—had been the many times Kayla had skewered her with a sharp-eyed gaze.

Even now, she wasn’t letting lack of eye contact deter her. She put her hand on Lianne’s arm again and pointed to the bed.

“You don’t give up, do you?” Sighing, she sank to the edge of the mattress.

“Not when there’s something wrong. You know how happy I am to have you here. But I want to know why you left Chicago ahead of schedule. I’m guessing it’s connected to Mark, since you haven’t mentioned him once.”

“Don’t worry about him,” she said lightly.

“I’m not. I’m worried about you. And I’m not taking a brush-off for an answer.”

She shifted on the mattress. Kayla would only be upset to hear she now had no steady relationship, no permanent job and not even a home to call her own. All because of a confrontation she hadn’t walked away from the way she had fled from that stranger on Signal Street. “You’ve got enough on your mind. You don’t need to hear my problems.”

“Listen, big sis, haven’t we always confided in each other?”

For most things, yes. Not this. On the other hand, she recognized on her sister’s face the same stubborn look she often saw in her own mirror.

Sighing again, she said, “The long story short is, things with Mark didn’t work out.”

Kayla’s eyes, as blue as her own, shone with tears. “I’m sorry. I thought everything was going so well. You’ve been with him longer than anyone else I can remember.”

“Two years, three months, eight days. But who’s counting?” The relationship had lasted longer than most. So had Mark’s apparent acceptance that she was deaf. “He turned out to be just like some of the other guys I’ve dated—the ones who are so sure I can’t manage without their help.” How many times had she heard that? “He put an extra spin on things, though.” She looked away and then made herself meet Kayla’s eyes again. “He said I’ll never survive without him.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

Lianne had no trouble reading the next word on Kayla’s lips. She shook her head. “Yes, he is that. But watch your mouth, little sis. Your son might be able to hear you.”

They both laughed.

“Anyway, you called it right about Mark. So he’s history.” Kayla’s expression told her she hadn’t done a good job of keeping her feelings from her tone. She shrugged. “It’s okay. I’ll get over it.” And she’d learn from it.

Someday.

She dropped the folded shirts into her canvas carryall. “Enough about him. How’s Becky?”

“She’s fine.” Kayla shook her head. “Sam and I have talked to her over and over about being careful when she’s chasing after Pirate. Five-year-olds forget. We’ll keep talking to her.” She stopped signing briefly to squeeze Lianne’s hand. “I told you, it wasn’t your fault.”

“She moved so quickly—”

“She does that to me all the time. It’s scary. Believe me, I know. But you said the driver didn’t come close to her.”

“He didn’t. That’s what I tried to tell him.”

She’d been upset over the situation, too. He hadn’t cared about that. Maybe hadn’t even noticed, considering the way he had almost staggered from the truck, his face pale and his eyes wide.

A twinge of guilt made her wince. He had also tried to apologize. Yet after getting the final words in, she had stalked away.

Kayla frowned. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“No. Becky wasn’t—”

“I’m talking about you. And that man.”

“Forget him.” She planned to. One look into his stormy-green eyes and she had instinctively known he would bring her nothing but trouble. She didn’t need any more trouble.

To her relief, Becky burst into the room and, already chattering away, ran up to Kayla.

Like any child her age, her niece walked around with a head full of never-ending questions. And like any inquisitive, active child, she forever wanted someone to talk to and play with. Happily, thanks to her mommy, Becky knew plenty of kids who signed.

A five-year-old without friends who could communicate with her found life lonely and isolating at times.

Adults didn’t have it any easier.

Why hadn’t she seen through Mark sooner?

You’ll never survive without me.

Ridiculous, as Kayla had said.

She couldn’t bring herself to tell Kayla the words he had flung as his parting shot.

With his mouth so contorted in anger, his face so filled with scorn, she’d had trouble reading his lips. Seeing her struggle, he had gone out of his way to speak slowly and deliberately. To make sure she got the message:

You’ll never make it anywhere, Lianne.

She understood that, all right. And those words had made her cut her losses and leave him.

No matter what he thought, she could live in both the hearing and the deaf worlds. And she would fight any man who wouldn’t treat her as his equal in either one of them.

* * *

BY LATE THAT AFTERNOON, Ryan and Caleb had inspected a good portion of the eastern boundary of the new ranch. The horses had no trouble getting them back home, which reminded him of the question Caleb had asked that morning. Did he have any trouble finding the ranch? He had given Caleb a firm negative. He’d had no problem at all making his way there.

If only that had been true about his trip through town. All day, he’d had a hard time keeping the incident out of his mind. But no way would he bring it up with the boss.

“We’ll take care of some of that fencing during the week ahead,” Caleb said, looking at his watch. “Let’s call it a day.”

“Sounds good to me.” It had been a long afternoon after a longer trip, and with all he’d had to get done before leaving Montana, he hadn’t closed his eyes for almost two days now. But lost sleep trailed at the end of his long list of troubles.

Tony, the gray-haired stable hand he’d met earlier, ambled out of the barn, his gait unsteady due to a bum leg and a built-up boot heel.

As they dismounted, Tony gestured to the horses. “I’ve got these.”

Ryan held on to the reins, standard procedure on the Montana ranch. Except in an emergency, a rider took care of his own mount. To his surprise, Caleb handed over his reins and then nodded at him. Frowning, Ryan followed the unspoken order.

After the cowhand had led both horses into the depths of the barn, Caleb said, “Tony’s an old buddy of mine. When I got back home again, I went to Amarillo to look him up. He’d run across a mean bull in rodeo years ago. Not everybody’s as lucky as I was.”

Lucky, hell. He knew why the boss had just leaned back against the barn door to give his leg muscles a rest. The former bull-riding champ had met a badass of his own and still stiffened up after a while in the saddle.

“Once Tony heard I was buying the ranch, he said he’d been spending too much time on his butt and wanted something to do.”

That explained the new procedure with the horses.

Just like his boss, always willing to help an old friend.

“As you saw,” Caleb went on, “there’s still plenty of work to do and men and horses and cattle to bring in before this turns into anything like the working ranch in Montana.” He looked at him. “We’ll need to go over some specifics.”

Ryan nodded. The tour had gone fine. Too fine, maybe. As he’d learned the hard way all through life, good things might come in threes, but so did bad ones. After his run-ins that morning with the unnamed woman and the judge, he wondered what to expect from his talk with the boss.

Not once since his arrival had Caleb indicated either by word or by action any lack of trust in him. But if he didn’t watch his step, he’d be pulling stable duty with Tony.

Judge Baylor’s name hadn’t come up, either. Not for the first time, he wondered why the boss had talked to the man about him.

“I’ll have the laptop with me tomorrow,” Caleb continued, “and we can run over the list of wranglers we’ve got on board as of now.”

“Good. Always nice to know something about the men you’re working with.” No reason he shouldn’t get along with those here. He’d always done just fine back home...until lately.

“I mentioned the renovations.” Caleb gestured toward the bunkhouse. “The contractor’s not done yet with the addition. Things will be a mess over there for a while, but since we don’t have a full crew, that shouldn’t be a problem. I want you to bunk down here at the house, anyway.”

Puzzled, Ryan said, “You and the family haven’t moved in yet?”

“No. We’re keeping our rooms at the Whistlestop for now. My mother-in-law has plenty available.” His grimace told Ryan business hadn’t picked up for the family-owned inn. “Anyhow, the bunkhouse is low on the priority list. I’ve had the contractor’s men working on the cabins.”

“Cabins?”

“Yeah. Phase two.” Caleb eyed him for a long moment.

From inside the barn, metal clanged against metal. A horse nickered. Tony’s soothing response reached them as a murmur, reminding him of the woman on Signal Street.

Caleb gave him a wry smile. “We’re not up to speed yet, mostly because it took me a while to decide what I wanted to do with the property. I’ve finally figured it out. We’ll eventually get this place running as a working ranch. But along with that, I’m setting up a school for disadvantaged boys.”

Ryan shoved his hands into his back pockets and forced himself not to break eye contact. Hell, not to break into a sweat. He knew enough about his boss’s history to understand his interest in folks who didn’t have much to call their own. But Caleb knew his history, too. “You never mentioned kids.”

“I am now.”

He sucked in a breath. This wasn’t part of their deal.

As if they’d actually agreed on his reassignment.

“We’ve got student applications coming in, and we’re in the process of hiring. Officially, we won’t open till August.”

Four months from now. He would be long gone.

The contractors had left a sawhorse just outside the barn door. He settled on it and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’ve brought in a project manager to handle the school setup,” Caleb added. “Meanwhile, I’ll be keeping a close eye on things.”

Ryan frowned. Did he plan to keep an eagle eye on him, too? Or a squint-eyed gaze like the one the judge had given him earlier? And how many other surprises did the boss plan to throw at him? “I met a friend of yours on my way through town this morning.”

He gave himself a mental kick for blurting the statement.

Before he could get himself in deeper, a vehicle screeched to a halt in the front of the house.

Caleb looked at his watch again and pushed himself upright. “Speaking of friends, here’s another one of mine you’ll get to meet. The new project manager.”

Thankful for the reprieve, he walked across the yard, trying to get a handle on the same issues that had dogged him all year. Frustration over circumstances he had no ability to control. Overwhelming anger at unanswered questions.

He shook his head. In the few hours since he’d set foot in Flagman’s Folly, he hadn’t done much of what he’d come here to prove—that he was back to his calm, rational, clearheaded self. Back to the self he was before the accident. Back to being a man his boss could trust.

He wondered what kind of man Caleb would trust to manage a project as big as building a school. He turned the corner of the house and got his answer. Not a man after all.

The third bad thing of his day had just arrived.

He stared past Caleb at the woman he’d had the run-in with that morning.

Chapter Three

Would she never get away from the man?

She just couldn’t shake him off. On Signal Street. In her thoughts. And now on the ranch. Just behind Caleb, the cowboy crossed the driveway toward her, striding with his thumbs hooked in his belt loops like some Old West villain wanting quick access to his guns. Well, if he wanted a shoot-out, she’d give him one. And if he thought that unblinking stare of his would send her packing, he’d have to think again.

Caleb made introductions. She regained her focus barely in time to read the cowboy’s name from Caleb’s lips.

“...Ryan Molloy.”

She plastered her smile in place and nodded silently. No sense wasting the effort to speak to the man. She’d been there, done that earlier and had felt the consequences of it ever since.

Unlike this morning, he seemed done with her, too.

“We were just talking about you,” Caleb said.

She stood straighter. “Were you?” Had he already learned what had happened on Signal Street? With Becky involved, of course, she’d had to tell Kayla. But had the darned cowboy already spread the news to her new boss?

If Caleb did know, he chose not to mention it right then. “Ryan’s come down from the ranch in Montana. I was starting to fill him in on our plans.”

And why did the cowboy need to know?

Taking a deep breath, she forced another smile.

“We’ve decided to call it a night,” Caleb said. “And before I forget to tell you—” he glanced at them both but kept his face turned toward her “—Tess and Roselynn already plan to set places for you at the Whistlestop for Sunday dinner. And Nate’s got a whole list of questions she’s saved for Lianne.” He looked at her. “Okay with you?”

“That sounds perfect.” Half the truth, since the cowboy had been invited along, too. But she had loved Caleb’s new extended family the minute she’d met them at Kayla and Sam’s wedding more than a year ago. “I’m looking forward to seeing them again.”

“Good. I’ll be back in the morning, then. Ryan, help Lianne with her gear when you bring yours in. Then you’ll both be set for the night.”

The sudden blankness in the cowboy’s face alerted her. She could read lips with the best of them, but no one caught one-hundred percent of a conversation, even after years of practice. She had missed something. Something he didn’t like. What?

She watched Caleb carefully as she said, “We’ll both be...”

“Set for the night.” He laughed. “Maybe better said, for the duration. Ryan’s moving in, too.”

Instantly, she made her face as blank as the cowboy’s. She’d had plenty of practice in that, too, and she couldn’t let Caleb see her dismay. But right now the last thing she wanted was to share space with anyone. Especially Ryan Molloy.

“You okay with that?” Caleb asked. “If not, we can get you a room at the Whistlestop.”

“No, I’m fine,” she blurted. As much as she liked his family, she needed time alone. She would have even less chance of that in a bed-and-breakfast inn than she would have had at Kayla’s. At least here she had only the cowboy around. She would stay far out of his way.

“And you?” Caleb asked Ryan.

“I don’t have a problem with it.”

As far as she could tell, he’d spoken quietly—no exaggerated mouth movements, no strained muscles in his neck. Yet standing so close to him, she could swear she felt a tiny vibration rumble through her.

Caleb nodded at her, and he and Ryan walked toward Caleb’s pickup truck.

Eyes narrowed, she looked the cowboy over from his broad shoulders to tight-fitting jeans. When she realized she was staring, she hurried around the end of her Camry. The man was irritating and confrontational—and not worth her time.

Everything inside the trunk had shifted during her trip, and it took a few moments to work some tangled straps free. Ryan reached forward to grab another bag. She nearly jumped out of her shoes. Even wearing her hearing aids, she couldn’t pick up footsteps. But people coming up from behind her never startled her. Her nerves must need time to regroup as much as she did.

He gestured at the car. “Riding a little low to the ground, isn’t it?”

“It’s packed.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I can see that. You’ve got more in there than most folks manage to cram into the back of a pickup. Looks like you brought everything you own.”

“I did,” she snapped. Regret flooded her. Why hadn’t she kept quiet? He didn’t need to know anything about her personal life.

Ryan reached for another bag.

“I can do that,” she said quickly.

He nodded. “I’ll start on the boxes in the car.”

“That’s okay.” When he turned to open a rear door, ignoring her, she managed to hold her temper in check. Barely. Surely he knew he needed to face her when he spoke. “Caleb said you have your own things to unload.”

He looked at her and shrugged. “Two duffel bags and an extra pair of boots.” One side of his mouth curved up. “From the looks of it, your stuff will take a lot longer to unload than mine. And I’m beat. I’d rather get this done before I run out of energy.”

“I can handle this,” she said.

“Hey, I recognize an order from the boss, even if you don’t. And I don’t slack off anytime, which means I’m sure not going to do it when he’s still here.”

Heat flooded her face. She turned around to look down the length of the driveway. Sure enough, Caleb had just begun to back his truck onto the road in front of the house. His truck with the engine that was loud enough to make her aids vibrate.

Wonderful. Earlier, she’d messed up reading Caleb’s words, and now she’d completely missed the clue that would have told her he hadn’t yet left.

From tiredness, that was all. Tiredness after the long drive from Chicago. Excitement over the new job. Frustration over dealing with this darned cowboy again. And...

...and fear.

Normally, she could handle anything that came her way. But every once in a while when she thought of the scope of this project, a small part of her worried she’d gotten in over her head.

She owed that to Mark, too.

Forcing a smile, she waved goodbye to Caleb. Then she turned back to Ryan, moments too late. He had pulled a box from the backseat of the Camry, taken the bag from the trunk, and was already going up the front porch steps.

The box he carried, filled with books and file folders, weighed a ton. Ryan cradled the cardboard box in one arm as though it weighed no more than the pillow she’d tossed on top of the bags in the passenger seat.

She stared at his arms and shoulders, at bulging muscles probably honed through hard labor. Nothing at all like most of the men she knew in Chicago, who sculpted their bodies at the gym. None of those men would have ventured out in public dressed the way he was, either, in boots so old and cracked that the leather had worn to suede in spots and jeans so threadbare they’d turned white in places. The perfect specimen of a true-blue, red-blooded, thank-you-ma’am-polite cowboy.

Until he’d started in on her this morning and the image had shattered like a mirror dropped on concrete.

* * *

TWO HUNDRED YARDS shy of the railroad crossing at the south end of town, the car swerved, painting black rainbows on the asphalt, straightened again, slid forward and ended up grill-first against an unyielding concrete fence. Fiberglass popped. Distressed metal collapsed, twisting and bending, folding in on itself like a beer can in the hands of a drunken man.

He could smell the rubber, hear the metal scream, feel the pounding in his temples.

But he wasn’t there....

He hadn’t been there the day of the accident. He didn’t know where he was now, other than sitting bolt upright in an inky darkness that stretched on into forever. His heart limped for a few beats as he sat waiting for his eyes to adjust.

Dead ahead a thin gold thread appeared, outlining a dark rectangle—light seeping around the edges of a window shade. Off to one side of him, bright red LED numbers hovered in the dark like a candle flame. A bedside clock, reading 5:43 a.m.

The red images gave him his bearings: Caleb’s ranch house, the guest room on the second floor, the faint light from the porch fixture outside. A deep sleep after two days of no shut-eye. A nightmare he had hoped he’d left behind.