Rancher's Son Page 14

  By the time Jimmy said his prayers, he could barely keep his eyes open. He scrambled beneath the covers, and Sarah waited until his breathing grew even and his body stretched into a loose-limbed sprawl across the bed. Convinced he was down for the night, she drew in a steadying breath. Earlier today, she’d made herself a promise. And now, with the bonfire only steps away from their cabin, it was time to put her plan into action. Time to get to know Ty a little better.

  She paused just long enough to gather her courage before she tugged on her jacket and drew a scarf around her neck. Though the day had warmed nicely, after sundown temperatures had plummeted again. Slipping through the door, she spotted Ty among the guests and staff who’d gathered around a roaring fire. Sparks danced in the smoke that rose between them, but a welcoming smile broke across his face when he saw her step into the circle around the bonfire.

  “Jimmy down for the night?” Ty stopped strumming his guitar long enough to pat an empty spot beside him. “Sit here, why don’t you?”

  She glanced around at the others. Matt and Elliott and their pals huddled directly across the fire where they furtively passed a flask amongst them. Tom, Hope and Kelly had spread out on one side and were busy roasting marshmallows. Across from them, Seth and Doris did the same.

  “Your turn to pick a song, Matt,” Ty said while Sarah got settled.

  “‘Camptown Races,’” Matt replied quickly.

  “‘Camptown Races’ it is.” Ty’s long fingers danced across the strings of a guitar that bore the scars of long use.

  Sarah joined in singing the lively song, stretching her hands and feet toward the fire, very much aware of the man beside her. She hadn’t inherited her sister’s musical genius, but she had some idea of how long it took to master an instrument. How had Ty found the time? It was yet another facet of the man she wanted to get to know.

  “Elliott, your turn,” Ty said after the closing bars of Matt’s selection faded.

  And around the circle they went, each choosing familiar songs while, every so often, Seth interrupted to share a story or a joke. Eventually, Doris called it a night. One by one, the others left until only Sarah and Ty lingered by the fire while he sang a haunting ballad about lost loves and second chances.

  Right then, right there, Sarah knew she was in big trouble. Contrary to the tales she’d been told by her foster kids, Ty Parker was a good man. An admirable man. A man she could trust. One who stirred a desire for the kind of life she hadn’t thought possible before she met him. Now it turned out he was quite an accomplished guitarist. She held her hands to the crackling fire and forced herself to ask him a question.

  “My brother picks a little. He’s not nearly as good at it as you are. Have you been playing long?”

  “All my life, or near about.” Ty leaned the six-string against a log and stretched his long legs toward the fire. “I think I got my first guitar when I was about Jimmy’s age. My mom played a mean fiddle and Dad, he was a fair hand on the banjo. Seth is, too. Some of my best memories are of us sitting around the living room after supper, playing and singing.” His voice dropped an octave. “Good days, those.”

  He clasped his fingers in front of the fire. “You say you have a brother?”

  Sarah nodded. “He’s a physicist at Cornell. Does ground-breaking research on things I’ll never understand. My sister is the real musical talent in our family. She teaches piano at Juilliard.”

  She felt Ty’s dark eyes on her and looked up to meet his questioning gaze. “What?”

  “For some reason, I thought you’d grown up in foster care.”

  “Me?” Sarah chortled. “What gave you that idea?” She stopped. “Oh, because I’m with DCF.”

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  Color flooded Ty’s face. Certain the light from the fire was playing tricks on her eyes, Sarah shifted marginally closer to him.

  “Actually, my childhood was pretty normal. I grew up about three hours from here, in Melbourne. My folks still live there. Dad’s an engineer, and Mom’s a schoolteacher. You’re right about one thing, though. People don’t go into social work without a pretty good reason. Meagan was mine.”

  While Ty leaned closer, Sarah told him how a chance encounter had changed her life. The day she’d walked into the Starbucks near her dorm and spotted Meagan Shay bussing tables, she almost hadn’t recognized her long-lost friend. She’d assumed Meagan was, like herself, a college student, working part-time for spending money. After all, she’d taken first communion with the bright-eyed girl; their grandparents hailed from the same county in Ireland, and they’d been best friends…right up to the day Meagan and her younger brother, Tommy, had disappeared in the middle of the girls’ first semester of junior high.

  But Meagan’s middle-class life had come to an abrupt halt not long after her mom died and her dad fell into the bottle. DCF had stepped in, separating the Shay children. The siblings had fallen out of touch. Meagan had no idea where her brother was and, worse, she didn’t seem to care. Once she’d aged out of foster care, she’d left school and worked at a series of dead-end jobs that usually ended with her getting fired for being high.

  Over the next few months, as Sarah tried to befriend her childhood playmate, she came to see how the years of moving from one foster home to another had marked Meagan far more than the tattoos and piercings that gave her a fearsome look. But when jewelry and electronics began disappearing from her dorm room, Sarah started asking hard questions about how two girls from similar backgrounds could turn out so different from one another. Eventually, she decided that her parents had been wrong when they’d preached that people could be anything they wanted. Realizing that environment played a crucial role in determining the lives people led, she vowed to do everything she could to make sure no other child endured what her friend had.

  “So, I switched majors from education to sociology,” Sarah said, summing up the story. “I stayed at UF until I got my master’s.” She shook her head. “I was sure I could change the system, make a difference. But…” She expelled a breath that was half shiver, half sigh. “It’s impossible.”

  The temperature had dropped even further. More cold air swept in, stealing warmth from the dying fire. Ty shifted closer until his leg pressed against hers.

  “If you don’t think you’re having an influence on these kids’ lives, you’re wrong. I’ve seen how you go to bat for them. They’re lucky to have you on their side. Look at Jimmy.”

  Sarah couldn’t help but frown. “That’s exactly what I mean.... Look at Jimmy. Our foster homes are filled to capacity, so DCF policy requires that he go into The Glades. Even though you and I both know it’s the absolute worst place for a young boy.”

  She retrieved a stick from the ground and used it to poke at the coals. “The same thing happens over and over. Every time I point it out or try to change things, I put my career on the line.”

  Suddenly aware of how cold she was everywhere except where Ty’s leg touched hers, Sarah fought a chill. She scooted ever-so-slightly closer to the warmth that seemed to radiate from the big man. When he stretched one arm around her, it felt only natural to rest her head against his shoulder. “The last few months, it’s gotten to where I don’t think I can follow the rules and still live with myself.”

  Ty leaned toward her, tucking her deeper into his arms. “Have you thought about leaving?”

  “Yeah,” Sarah admitted. “That’s part of what I need to do on this trip—determine my
next step. What I’d really like to do is to make a true commitment to kids like Jimmy, give them a permanent home.”

  To his credit, Ty only hugged her closer. “You mean like adoption?”

  “The older the child, the more difficult that becomes. So, no, probably not.” She plucked a string from her scarf and let the wind blow it away. “But a kid Jimmy’s age—he goes into the system and he’ll probably live fifteen or twenty different places before he turns eighteen. That kind of instability makes it hard to do well in school, develop relationships, be prepared for life. I think, working with one or two kids at a time, I can change that. Give them the kind of stability they need in order to succeed.”

  “Sounds like a good plan,” Ty said. “So, why don’t you do it?”

  Sarah tried to ignore the way Ty’s breath whispered into her hair, the sense of strength that rose from him, the heat that radiated from him. The truth was, his presence made her wish they were doing more than having a conversation beside the roaring fire. She cleared her throat and tried to remember his question.

  “The usual reason—money. I’ve always loved orchids and, when I visited Hawaii right after I got my BA, I fell in love with plumeria. I thought I might open a tropical nursery. Now it looks as though I’ll have to go back to the drawing board, find a different idea.”

  “I’m sure you’ll come up with something,” Ty said softly.

  There didn’t seem to be much more to say, but still Sarah lingered, enjoying the sensation of Ty’s arm around her, the press of his hip against hers. She was just beginning to think it might be time to untangle herself from his warm embrace and head for her cabin when his voice breathed through her hair again.

  “So, you like flowers, do you? After today, I thought maybe you had a thing for cows.”

  Sarah squirmed around to face him. “I wanted to say thanks for that.” When Ty ducked his head as if it was nothing, she hurried to correct him. “I know what an imposition it is for you to take in that cow. Jimmy’s named her Lacy, by the way.”

  Sarah’s gaze locked on the slow smile that spread across Ty’s face.

  “He named the cow? Anyone tell him you don’t do that on a ranch?”

  “Well, no…” Sarah began. Knowing she had to quit staring at Ty’s perfect lips, she looked up. She thought her heart might stop when his smoldering eyes met hers. His dark look burned with the same need she felt.

  Ty leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. Searing heat passed through her at his touch. Slowly, he kissed her again, this time lingering to plunder her mouth until her breath quickened and she silently cursed the layers of sweaters and coats between them. When he finally drew back, she felt dazed and confused and a little uncertain.

  Ty’s touch stirred feelings within her she hadn’t felt in, well, forever. And there was a quality to his kisses that felt like coming home, at once comforting and exciting. But sitting by the fire in the middle of camp was not the place she wanted to be when or if she and Ty ever went beyond a few heated kisses.

  Reluctantly, she made her excuses and headed back to her cabin afraid she’d never be as warm under the covers as she was in Ty’s arms.

  * * *

  TY STEPPED FROM THE CORRAL where he’d left Ranger in Seth’s capable hands. Noting a dark smear along one edge of the horizon, he scanned the sky above the flat prairie. As he studied the distant storm and the flashes of lightning that danced behind the clouds, an uneasy feeling tightened his stomach. His gaze drifted past ten tiny cabins, his guests’ accommodations for the night.

  After their fifth full day since leaving the main camp down by the lake, the cattle had bedded down without any problem. If he squinted just right, he could spot the half-dozen riders who would watch the herd in shifts until morning. Seth and the rest of the hands were seeing to the horses, making sure each one got a good rubdown. Over in the pole barn where Doris had dished out tacos and enchiladas for supper, the cook supervised her helpers in the prep work for tomorrow’s breakfast. Not long ago, he’d spotted Sarah and Jimmy on their way to the bathhouse, their arms filled with towels and clothes.

  Everything was exactly as it should be.

  So, why did he feel as jumpy as a frog in a den of cottonmouths?

  Seeing Sarah probably had something to do with it. The past four nights, they’d lingered at the campfire long after everyone else. At breakfast this morning, one look into her hazel eyes had stirred the urge to kiss her senseless. Or take her hand in his and disappear into the nearest hayloft. He wanted to taste her lips, explore her curves, to whisper sweet nothings in her ear and hear her moan his name. He hadn’t felt such an overwhelming attraction to a woman since he and Millie had called it quits, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.

  Probably nothing, since the one thing he knew for sure was that spending quality time with Sarah didn’t fit his current agenda. With the cattle drive’s reputation as a family-friendly event at stake, and the Circle P dependent on the successful delivery of fifty head to the buyer in Kissimmee, he couldn’t risk getting involved with one of his guests. For the umpteenth time since breakfast, Ty told himself he should keep his distance from the redhead whose surprisingly curvy body got his motor running.

  A slow roll of thunder caught his attention, and he studied the sky again. Clouds that had hugged the horizon the last time he checked had moved a lot closer in the fifteen minutes he’d spent woolgathering. Ty rubbed the bridge of his nose. With no internet or cell phone coverage, he had to rely on his gut…and his gut told him they were in for a blow.

  Immediately, he scrapped plans for the nightly bonfire. Though he might not mind a little weather if it gave him an excuse to hold Sarah in his arms, he didn’t think the rest of the guests would feel the same way about hunkering down in the pouring rain. Instead, they’d have an old-fashioned hoedown. He’d gather everyone in the pole barn where he’d play the guitar, and Seth could join in on the banjo. Between them, they could manage some dance music. It wouldn’t be the kind of show the city slickers were used to, but that was the whole point, wasn’t it?

  He’d started spreading the word for everyone to gather in the barn when he spotted Sarah headed his way. Though the sight of her ignited a warm glow in the center of his chest, he frowned when he didn’t see Jimmy. She usually watched the boy like a mother hawk.

  “Hey.” He touched his hat brim and was rewarded with a smile bright enough to chase away the storm clouds…or at least make him forget about them for a moment. “Jimmy around?” More for his own benefit than Sarah’s, he added, “Thought I’d see about his boots.”

  Earlier today, the kid had doused himself good when he kicked at a fresh cow pie. A shower and a change of clothes would put the boy to rights, but Ty thought he might show Jimmy the best way to clean his boots, the same way his father had shown him.

  Sarah’s pleased look changed into one of pure consternation. “He ran out fifteen minutes ago saying he had to talk to you about Lacy. You haven’t seen him?”

  “Nope.” Ty watched aggravation turn to concern in Sarah’s eyes, and knew exactly how she felt. After all, it hadn’t been that long ago that he’d been the one to let the boy get out of his sight.

  Ty shook his head. He’d deny it if anyone asked, but deep inside he knew that once they had the results of the blood tests and Sarah found Jimmy’s real dad, he’d miss the kid. Sometimes, when he stopped to think about the boy riding on another man’s shoulders or striving to match his strides as
they crossed the room, an ache clawed at the back of his throat. At first, a reminder that the child wasn’t his had been enough to let him shake it off. Lately, though, the feeling had lingered despite his best efforts to rid himself of it.

  Distant thunder rolled ominously, and he glanced at the swiftly moving clouds that filled a third of the sky. The storm boiled toward them. From the field where they’d bedded down, the lowing of the cattle picked up its tempo, a sure sign that the herd was getting restless.

  “Not to worry,” Ty said, though worry was exactly what he felt. “We’ll find him. I’ll head back to the corral, check with Seth. You start with the cabins at the other end of the camp. He can’t have gone far. Meet me back here in five minutes.”

  Hiding his concern for the boy’s safety, Ty spun and jogged back the way he’d come. The truth was, the little tyke could be just about anywhere. He hated to think of what might happen if Jimmy had decided to strike out on his own with a storm nearing. He quickened his pace.

  “Hey, Jimmy, you in here?” Ty called at the entrance to the barn. A quick search of the corral had yielded no sign of little boys or ranch foremen.

  Seth poked his head out of a large storage locker. He held up a yellow slicker. “I was just about to hand out the rain gear.”

  Judging by the way angry clouds were rapidly blocking out the first stars of evening, Ty thought better of the idea. “Nah, don’t do that. Call the men in.” In a state where more people died of lightning strikes than anywhere else in the U.S., he wanted his men off the open field. “They can grab some coffee till the storm passes.”