The Rancher Next Door (9 page)

Chapter Ten

O
f all the places a child could be on a Saturday morning, Ava seemed perfectly content to relax by Nonie’s bedside, playing Go Fish with a crinkled deck of cards and arguing over which game-show rerun to watch on TV.

Caley was jealous of a ten-year-old.

She shifted in her hard chair, the vinyl seat chilly through her capri pants, and shivered. The nursing home must keep the thermostat on fifty degrees, but Nonie didn’t seem to notice, even wearing a thin flowered housedress. The flow from the air vents rustled the pictures Ava had colored on the bulletin board by Nonie’s bed. She and Ava had been there for almost an hour already, and neither her grandmother nor the younger girl cared about the cold. They were having too much fun.

While Caley watched from the sidelines, alternating between mentally replaying her conversation with Brady from the evening before—and wondering what on earth she’d thought coming back to Broken Bend would actually accomplish. She wasn’t cheering her grandmother up, a near stranger was. Nonie didn’t need her now any more than she had when Caley left home at the age of eighteen, determined to make her own way in the world.

And shake off the proverbial leash her father had fixed on her.

Nonie slapped a card on top of the rolling bedside table. “Eight matches! I win again.”

“Next time we’re playing to ten.” Ava frowned as she gathered up the cards and stacked them into a pile. “Or twelve.”

Nonie puckered her lips, bright red with lipstick today. “Bring it, little missy. I’m not afraid of you.”

Ava giggled. “I’ve got to use the restroom.” She hopped off the foot of the bed and headed into the adjoining bathroom, then popped her head around the frame and shook a warning finger at Nonie. “Don’t cheat.”

Nonie threw her head back and laughed as the bathroom door clicked shut.

“Ava.” Caley shook her head in embarrassment. “She was kidding. I hope.”

“She’s a good kid. Let her have her fun—besides, I can’t say the thought hadn’t crossed my mind in the first place.” Nonie turned her still-twinkling gaze on Caley. “Want me to deal you in?”

Caley slid her hands under her thighs, her finger finding a tear in the vinyl and rubbing the exposed padding. With their ten-year-old buffer no longer in the room, tension crept into the vacant places between them. “No, thanks.” She swiped her hair out of her face, ruffled by the air-conditioning vent over her head. “I was never very good at card games.”

“You don’t have to be good at something to do it.” Nonie shuffled the cards with bony, blue-veined fingers, her eyes never leaving Caley’s. “Didn’t I teach you that much?”

She swallowed hard. “You taught me a lot, Nonie.” Too bad so much of it was in hindsight. Still, the pain of the not-so-distant past lingered deep. Her mother had left. Her father had outright rejected her.

And Nonie had stayed silent.

Of all three, that might hurt the worst.

Her eyes darted to the drawings Ava had created, and once again she longed for the days when she could express herself through a crayon and earn her grandmother’s favor so easily. Looking back, her pictures hadn’t been very impressive. She still couldn’t draw or paint to save her life, despite signing up for lessons as a young adult.

But Nonie had always made her feel talented and important. Worthwhile. She’d always managed to offset the abandonment Caley fought after her mom traded her relationship with her dad for a man with a thicker wallet; to offset the way her father made her feel—stifled. Incapable. Useless. Somehow, her grandmother had kept those precarious scales balanced.

Until Caley left.

“So, my dear—are you ever going to talk about it?” Nonie began dealing out the cards for the Go Fish pond in the center of the table.

Caley focused on the game-show contestant leaping excitedly around a lit stage on the TV, almost unable to speak around the lump in her throat. “Talk about what?” There she went with denial again, but the contrary required too much of her. Not now. Not yet.

“That elephant sitting right there.” Nonie gestured with her gray-streaked head to the empty far corner of the room.

She smiled despite herself. She’d missed that humor. Old age and disease might be slowly ravaging her grandma’s body, but they weren’t taking her wit. Or her heart. But the past was still written—and that elephant had a name. One she wasn’t ready to bring up.

Nonie finished handing out the cards, then lay back against her propped pillow. “So I take it you’re out of the Peace Corps?” The change of subject came quickly. Her grandmother had always been able to read her. The fact that Nonie knew not to push the previous topic just made her all the more endearing—and heaped an extra layer of guilt onto Caley’s already weary shoulders.

She nodded slowly, licking her suddenly dry lips. “I did a stint in Guam for a year before college.” She’d invited both Nonie and her dad to her graduation at Baylor University, but they hadn’t come. She pushed forward, trying not to let the negative invade what could be a positive conversation—their first since her arrival in Broken Bend. “I’ve been a firefighter the past several years, and an EMT.”

Nonie’s eager nod bolstered her courage—that, and her grandmother’s lack of surprise over the not-so-typical career choice. Then again, Nonie had always believed in her. That was part of why it hurt so badly that she hadn’t shown her support when it mattered the most.

“So what’s next?” Nonie tilted her head with genuine interest.

“I’m thinking about becoming a paramedic soon.” She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “But it just depends.”

“On what?”

Inside the bathroom, the toilet flushed. Their moment of private conversation was coming to an end, and she didn’t know if she felt disappointed or relieved. “Right now it depends on the local fire department and if they hire me soon.” She hesitated, hating the taste of truth on her tongue. But it had to be said. “And on how long I stay.”

The applause from the show on the television suddenly sounded louder than the fire alarms at the station. Nonie’s eyes narrowed, and her red-stained lips pursed once again. But not in judgment. In understanding. “You know, elephants don’t just leave of their own will. They set up camp and eat peanuts until you kick them out.”

“I know.” Emotion burned her throat and she coughed against it. Inside the bathroom, water ran in the sink. Ava would be out any minute. But she had one more question, one that plagued her every night whether she was in her own bed, a fire department cot or a sleeping bag under the stars. “Is it too late, Nonie?”

Her grandmother’s face softened, the wrinkles around her eyes relaxing into a satisfied smile. “No, my dear. It’s never too late to come home.”

* * *

That should be the last fence that needed mending. And if it wasn’t, well—he might just have to hope the cows came back if they got out again. How much barbed wire could a man pull in a single week?

Brady rotated his sore shoulder, then wiped sweat off his brow as he studied the grassy landscape, burned yellow in the autumn sun and heat. After an especially hard day’s work, nothing brought more peace and contentment than viewing his rolling acres of land—land that had been in his family for generations. Land he toiled over to support his family, to leave a legacy. One day all of this would be Ava’s.

The thought left him strangely unsettled. Brady took in the curve of the horizon, reality pressing hard upon his chest as he packed his tools in the saddlebags dangling from Nugget’s tack. Unlike training up a son to take over the family business, he hadn’t done that with Ava. She wouldn’t have a clue how to run a ranch once he was gone. She’d probably have to sell the property, and there went his family’s century of blood and sweat. But what choice did he have?

His mood darker than before, Brady fought the hopelessness rising up his throat. He tightened the straps of his bag harder than necessary, the jerk sending Nugget sidestepping. If only he’d said no when Jessica insisted on riding that stubborn horse he’d used to own. If only he’d seen the warning signs, been closer when the stallion flattened his ears and snorted. If only he’d caught her. Would they have a son by now, if it had gone differently? Would he be less uptight about Ava—the only blood he had left?

Would he have ever discovered what it meant to have a happy marriage?

But as his grandfather used to say when Brady was growing up, if wishes were horses, they’d all be swatting flies.

He mounted Nugget just as the horse lifted his head and pricked his ears toward the north. A slow-moving blob crested the hill from the direction of the house, and Brady frowned. Unless Max had doubled in size since he saw him at lunch, it wasn’t his friend approaching him on horseback.

He clicked his tongue at Nugget, and the horse obediently moved forward, blowing through his nose. He recognized the other rider’s mount. In fact, Brady did, too. The black-and-white patches belonged to his retired quarter horse, Penny. The docile mare was older than dirt and had long since paid her dues, earning a retirement in the pasture. He rode her every now and then for exercise or when Nugget was lame, but Max never did. What was going on?

Penny drew closer and Brady abruptly pulled back on Nugget’s reins. The blob wasn’t one large person. It was two smaller ones—Caley and Ava. And Scooter trotted right along beside them, tongue lolling happily from his mouth.

Brady pressed his lips together until they hurt, waiting until the unlikely threesome rode up beside him before he spoke. Ava sat behind the saddle, holding on to Caley with both arms while two full saddlebags dangled by their legs.

Despite Caley’s apparent ease on horseback, he couldn’t stop the fear—and frustration—beginning to boil in his stomach. How dare Caley put his kid on a horse and ride out to the back pastures without asking him first? And after the talk they just had last night? She was either completely dense, or was pushing her boundaries with him to see how far she could go. Neither option sat well with him. The slow boil began churning into a cauldron of emotion. And Ava—she knew she wasn’t allowed to ride. What was she thinking?

Then he took one look at Caley’s glowing expression and Ava’s eyes, lit with excitement, and swallowed the bitter words threatening to burst from his mouth.

“Surprise!” Caley stopped Penny beside Nugget. The two horses butted noses before stretching against their bits to graze the grass at their feet.

“We brought you a picnic.” Ava shoved her hair behind her ears, face shining with anticipation. “Chicken salad sandwiches, fruit, chips and cookies. I made the chocolate chip ones this time.” She playfully tapped Caley’s back, and a light pink burn spread up her cheeks.

“Yes, the cookies are edible this time.” Caley rolled her eyes and grinned. “I know it’s a light supper, but Ava wanted to surprise you. Wasn’t sure how to pack spaghetti in a saddlebag.”

They could have driven it out in the truck, for one thing, or waited for him to get home and eaten in the backyard or in the barn.

But Brady had a hard time holding on to his frustration when Caley looked as good as she did in the saddle. So natural. Not like Jessica, who had sat rigidly and clung to the saddle horn as if she’d known what was coming, projecting her fear onto her mount. Caley rode straight and relaxed, her body melding to the saddle, her forearm resting casually against the horn as she gripped the reins firmly in one hand.

“Dad? Is that okay?” Ava’s brow furrowed and he realized he’d been staring at Caley instead of responding to their menu.

“Sounds good.” Brady tore his eyes from Caley and forced a smile at his daughter. They’d discuss the disobedience part later. “Let’s head toward the pond. There’s a great flat rock over there that can serve as a table.”

Ava squealed with excitement, emitting a bark from Scooter and sending Nugget’s head jerking up, grass dangling from his lips. Penny just continued to graze. Poor old girl probably hadn’t even heard the high-pitched noise. Of all the horses in his barn, Penny had definitely been the safest choice. But still, no animal was 100 percent trustworthy—and his rules were not supposed to be broken, surprise or no surprise.

He kept a close eye on Ava as they rode side by side toward the pond, and didn’t relax until he helped her slide to the ground and she was clear of both horses. He instructed her to set out their dinner while he and Caley settled the horses. She gladly obliged, Scooter at her heels.

“I hope this was okay.” Caley lowered her voice to a whisper, following his lead as he looped Nugget’s reins around a nearby tree branch. “Max saddled Penny for us. He said you wouldn’t care if Ava was on Penny as long as I was riding with her.”

Max. Brady let out a slow sigh, wishing he had a way to vent his frustration without letting either of them know. Figured his friend had something to do with this—probably trying to push him further toward Caley. If he didn’t back off soon, they would be having a long talk—and not as friends. As boss and employee.

“Ava isn’t supposed to ride. Period.” Brady stepped back to allow Nugget room to graze, and came to stand beside Caley. Her shorter stature barely met his chin, but her entire presence radiated strength. Capability.

Yet she hadn’t lived the nightmare he’d lived. She wasn’t a father, or a mom, for that matter. She didn’t get it. Firefighters took risks every day. She had no idea whom he’d become because of life. Had no clue what it felt like to walk every day in his boots.

But he refused to be the ogre who rudely pointed it out during a surprise picnic.

“She knows the rules, but thought it was okay because other adults said so.” Brady glanced at his daughter, who was humming off tune as she set up their picnic with all the care of a fancy tea party. She straightened the napkins, tilted her head, and straightened them again.

His heart melted a little, and when he looked back at Caley, he knew she’d seen it inside him, too. He ducked his head, but it was too late. Her slim hand rested on his forearm, prickling like he’d brushed up against an electric fence. “She thought of this on her own, Brady. Not to disobey. To surprise you.”