Rancher's Son Read online

  He’d thought having J.D. home on leave after his dad died would help. Even though his best friend had argued against his marriage to Millie, the threesome had always been close. And J.D., he’d always been able to make her listen to reason. But if Ty had counted on his friend to smooth things over, he’d been wrong about that, too. Instead, there’d been an added tension in the house that summer. Then, J.D. went to Afghanistan, and before he knew what was happening, there were soldiers in uniform at the door and Millie was packing her bags.

  Ty braced himself. It’d been six years since that fateful day, and he still felt his friend’s loss as if it’d been last week.

  “I can’t imagine how awful that must have been for you,” Sarah said. “I’ve never lived through something like that, but I like to think I’d be able to focus on the good that came out of the relationship.”

  It took Ty a second to realize that Sarah was still talking about Millie. “What good?” he asked.

  “Well, there’s Jimmy.”

  Ty stared out over the expanse of grass and palmetto that stretched to the horizon now that they’d left the wooded area behind. In the distance, a dark line smudged the sky, and he cleared his throat.

  “We should reach the bunkhouse in another half hour or so,” he said, pointing toward the curl of smoke that rose above the chimney. He tipped his hat to Sarah and clucked gently to Ranger. As the quarter horse trotted toward the head of the line, leaving Sarah in the dust, Ty glanced at the kid who, according to her, might be the answer to his concerns for the future.

  Chapter Five

  “Mmmm nooo.” Jimmy moaned and thrashed.

  Across the tiny room they shared in the bunkhouse, Sarah pushed her covers aside and swung her legs out of the narrow twin. Floorboards creaked beneath her feet as she moved to the boy’s bed where she knelt beside him.

  “Shh, sweetheart. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be all right,” she whispered. Freed of its normal restraints, her hair fell around her shoulders. She tucked loose strands behind her ears and continued to make soothing noises.

  Bad dreams had disturbed the child’s sleep every night since Candy dropped him off at DCF. What troubled him? His past? His future?

  Sarah knew very little about the first years of Jimmy’s life, but the road ahead was definitely uncertain. If Ty didn’t commit to raising him, the boy would probably become a ward of the state. Cute or not, the five-year-old was already too old for most prospective parents. The odds of him ever being adopted were practically nil. In all likelihood, he’d go into the system where he’d bounce from one foster home to another. Few kids escaped such a rootless existence unscathed.

  How could Ty let that happen? Even if the child wasn’t his flesh and blood, the rancher had been married to Jimmy’s mom. Wasn’t that alone reason enough to give the boy a home?

  She’d do it in a heartbeat, and she had no connection to the boy whatsoever. Sarah stilled. Though she carried a heavy caseload, she couldn’t explain why this one child mattered to her more than the others. Jimmy was a sweetheart, but she could name a dozen more just like him. He certainly wasn’t the only orphan under her care. But she wanted him to have a home, a family, someone to tuck him in at night and be there when the nightmares troubled his sleep.

  Reaching out, she brushed damp hair from his forehead and patted his shoulder.

  The boy quieted and rolled over.

  Sarah waited until Jimmy’s breathing smoothed out before she straightened his blankets, tucking them in around his chin. The comforting sound of his breathing stirred an odd feeling in her chest. She let her hand linger on his shoulder.

  Maybe she could adopt him herself.

  “Huh!” She shook her head. Assuming she could get past DCF’s rule against getting too involved, did she even have what it took to make a good parent? She was on call 24/7. Her job took so much out of her that what little time she had left over, she spent mindlessly gardening. Okay, so maybe a change of environment could fix both ailing flowers and troubled children, but that’s about where the similarities ended. If she forgot to water or fertilize a cutting and the plant died, she could always start over. With kids, there were no second chances. If you screwed them up, they stayed that way.

  Aware that some of Jimmy’s restlessness had rubbed off on her, Sarah tugged a sweatshirt over her pajamas and slipped her feet into scuffs. She eased open the bedroom door and padded down the stairs to the bunkhouse’s great room. A light shone through the swinging doors into the kitchen. She followed it to the refrigerator where she helped herself to a glass of milk.

  While she sipped, Sarah peered out the window at a group that lingered around the dying campfire. She raised an eyebrow when one of the men—Josh, she thought—took a swig from a bottle and handed it to Tom Garrison. Seth sat on Tom’s other side. When the bottle came his way, the older man passed it on without taking a share. A log on the fire collapsed, sending up a shower of sparks. Someone must have told a joke because another round of quiet laughter rippled through the group. She didn’t see Ty with the others, and a twinge that was halfway between regret and relief swept through her.

  Her milk finished, she set the glass in the sink before she headed back upstairs. No matter what transpired outside, a few more hours of sleep were on her agenda. Ty had said they’d head out at first light and spend the day searching for strays. That meant a full day in the saddle, and she already ached in places that hadn’t hurt since the last time she’d ridden a horse, back in her college years.

  Sarah was certain her head had barely touched the pillow when small hands gently shook her shoulder.

  “Ms. Sarah. Ms. Sarah.”

  “Good morning.” Beneath the covers, she stretched and squinted a smile at Jimmy. The little boy had already dressed for the day in the brand-new jeans and one of several shirts Ty had given him.

  “Ms. Sarah, I heared people talking in the hall. I think it’s time to get up now.”

  “You’re probably right about that.” She spared a quick look out the window. The rising sun had painted gold on the clouds that hugged the eastern horizon. Coffee and other heavenly scents filled the air, and her stomach rumbled. “Something smells good. Give me a second to get dressed and we’ll see about breakfast.”

  By the time Doris banged the triangle that hung from a post outside the kitchen, Sarah and Jimmy had joined the rest of the guests at the buffet table in the main room. There, bowls of grits, hash browns and gravy filled the spaces in between huge platters of bacon and chunks of dark country sausage. Honey, jellies and three kinds of syrup surrounded enormous trays of biscuits and buttery toast.

  While Jimmy settled in next to his new best friend, Kelly, Sarah fixed their plates.

  “Everybody sleep well?” she asked as she joined the Garrisons at one of the wide trestle tables.

  “Nothing like an afternoon of sunshine and fresh air to put me out like a light,” answered Hope Garrison. Across the table, her husband downed a couple of aspirin with his coffee. “How about you?”

  “Slept like a baby,” Sarah said. Her brief foray to the kitchen in the middle of the night didn’t merit a mention any more than the small patch of stinging skin just above her neckline. Ty had been right about one thing—the sunburn stung like the dickens.

  “Do I have to eat this?” the boy interrupted. He made a face at his plate.

  Uncertain of his likes or dislikes, Sarah had chosen a dab of this and a spoon of that from the many breakf
ast foods. She started to explain. “I thought you might—”

  “Got room for one more?”

  The deep voice at her shoulder brought a forgiving smile to her lips. Busy playing host to his guests last night, Ty had practically ignored his son at dinner. Breakfast would give them both a chance to get to know one another better.

  “Sure,” she said, sliding over to make space on the bench. Silverware clattered as Ty placed a towering plate on the table. A shiver passed through Sarah when the rancher’s elbow brushed hers. She edged a little farther away, assuring herself, however unsatisfactorily, that she had neither the time or the inclination for an attraction to Ty.

  Across the table, Jimmy gave his food a baleful look. “What is this stuff?”

  “A cowboy’s got to start the day with a good meal. Dig in.” Ty speared a fat, round sausage with his fork and took a bite.

  Looking doubtful, Jimmy poked one finger into his eggs. “I don’t like these. What are they?”

  “What do you mean—what are they? They’re scrambled eggs, little man. They’re good for you. Have some.” Ty scooped up a mouthful. “You’ll like ’em.”

  Sarah shot the man a warning glance. She’d let Jimmy pick his favorite cereal in the grocery store and hadn’t been surprised when he’d chosen something loaded with sugar. Not every child had a Ms. Doris in his life or a mom who started the day off with a hearty breakfast. It would take time for the boy to adjust to the way things were done on the Circle P. Taking the first small step, she worked her way around Jimmy’s plate, identifying the foods for him.

  “Isn’t there any Froot Loops?” The kid tipped his face to hers.

  “I saw oatmeal. Would you like some?”

  Jimmy made a face.

  “Don’t you want to grow up big and strong? You gotta eat to do that,” Ty grumbled.

  This time Sarah skipped the warning look and nudged Ty with her own elbow. She’d come on the cattle drive, in part, to help him develop his parenting skills. That meant learning which battles were worth fighting. She mustered a conciliatory smile for the boy.

  “Why don’t you try a bite of everything. See what you like and what you don’t, and tomorrow you can fix your own plate with all your favorites.”

  Jimmy snagged the sausage link from his plate and bit into it. “Too spicy,” he pronounced. He prodded the mound of grits. “What’s that?”

  “Ground up corn. You like corn, don’t you?” It was the only vegetable the boy would eat.

  “It’s not yellow.” He wiped the granules from his fork. “I like yellow corn.”

  “Tell you what—you try whatever you want and leave the rest.”

  Certain the boy wouldn’t starve to death, no matter how much or how little he chose to eat, Sarah dug into her own breakfast. She’d sworn she’d never be hungry again after feasting on steak and potatoes the night before, but she couldn’t pass up Doris’s famed biscuits. As advertised, they were soft and fluffy on the inside with a bit of salty crunch on the outside. Sarah had two and swirled the last one in cane syrup.

  Meanwhile, conversation buzzed about the room. Seth stopped by the table and went over the day’s plans with Ty. Every once in a while, the rancher glanced across the table at the little boy. He smiled when Jimmy nibbled on a slice of bacon and ate a jelly-smeared biscuit.

  At a little after eight, Ty tapped lightly on his juice glass and stood.

  “Today, we’re going to break into two groups and start rounding up the cattle. The hands have been out this morning scouting the area. The herd’s spread out around Little Lake, just like we thought. Mr. and Mrs. Garrison, you, Kelly and Sarah will head east with three or four of the men. Seth and the others’ll take the rest of you west. I’ll spend the day moving back and forth between the groups in case anyone needs help.”

  Jimmy looked around, his eyes wide. “What about me, Mr. Ty?”

  Sarah held her breath and braced for another clash of wills, but Ty favored the boy with a tight smile. “I heard Ms. Doris say she’s making apple pies for supper. She said she was looking for a helper about your size.”

  The little boy scowled at Sarah. “I want to ride a horse.”

  Ty’s smile lost a little of its wattage. “Tell you what, pardner. You stay here with Ms. Doris. I’ll take you for a ride on Ranger after we get back this afternoon.”

  “Really, Mr. Ty?”

  “If it’s okay with Ms. Sarah.”

  Nothing like putting me on the spot, Sarah thought as Jimmy’s hopeful eyes searched out hers. Purely for reassurance, she ran a quick look over Ty. Just like him, she, too, needed to pick her battles. “Sure,” she said agreeably.

  “Okay!”

  Sarah’s tummy tightened at the goofy grin that sprang onto Jimmy’s face. Her heart twisted with a desire to tell the boy yes every time he asked for something. But Ty was talking and she steered their attention back to the man in charge.

  “If you get anywhere near the lake, you’ll see gators. Don’t tease ’em. They move a lot faster than you might think. Last, but not least, watch out for snakes. On a cool day like this, they like to find a nice, sunny spot. As long as you’re on your horse, you should be okay, but if you have to dismount for any reason, watch where you’re walking.”

  Ty grabbed his emptied plate and utensils. He started toward the kitchen, but backtracked after a step or two.

  “Jimmy, how ’bout you come with me. I’ll get you set up with Ms. Doris before I leave.”

  The little boy scrambled down from his seat.

  “Get your plate,” Ty admonished, his tone gentle. “On the Circle P, we always clear our place after we eat.”

  Jimmy kept pace without spilling too much of his leftovers. At the swinging door between the kitchen and the main room, Ty aimed an amused glance in Sarah’s direction. She told herself he intended nothing more than to let her know he’d taken her example to heart but, heaven help her, the way his eyes crinkled sent a jolt right through her. Her mouth went dry. She reached for her water glass, not that it did any good. It’d take more than water to cool her growing attraction to the rancher.

  An attraction she was determined to ignore, she told herself. She was here for a purpose—to see what kind of home Ty would make for Jimmy. That didn’t include making goo-goo eyes at the man.

  * * *

  TY SHEPHERDED JIMMY THROUGH the door and into the kitchen. At the large garbage cans that stood beside the back door, he showed the kid how to scrape his plate and gave himself points for not cringing at the amount of food the boy tossed into the trash.

  “Tomorrow,” he said, “don’t take anything you won’t eat. Okay, pardner?”

  “I like biscuits,” Jimmy announced. “And bacon.”

  “Well, now, that’s fine. Mighty fine. Now then, let’s go turn you over to Ms. Doris.”

  The two young men washing pots and pans motioned him out back. He found the cook at a picnic table under a spreading oak tree, an ice chest on the ground at her feet, a large bowl in her lap.

  “Any problems, Ty?” she asked without bothering to get up.

  And no wonder. Doris was usually working on her second cup of coffee by the time he wandered through the kitchen on his way to the barn in the mornings.

  “Another superb breakfast.” Ty rubbed his flat stomach.

  The fatigue lines etching Doris’s face shifted into grandmotherly wrinkles. She patted the bench beside her. “Jimmy, I hear you’re going to
be my helper today.”

  Thankful she’d taken the initiative, Ty relinquished his hold on the young boy’s shoulder.

  Jimmy remained where he was, his feet planted. “I want to ride a horse, but Mr. Ty said I can’t. Not till later.”

  “On a ranch, everybody has to do their share.” Doris gave the boy a half smile and a knowing look. “We’ll have some fun, too. Grab me another bag of beans out of that ice chest and sit here beside me. You can start right now by helping me get these ready to cook for supper. Have you ever snapped beans before?”

  “No.” Jimmy stepped close enough to peer into her bowl. “They’re green. Do I have to eat them?”

  “You don’t have to. But these’ll be so good, I bet you’ll want a whole bowl all for yourself.” At Jimmy’s dubious look, she laughed. “Not fond of vegetables, huh? That’s okay. It means there’ll be more for me. You run and wash your hands and then we’ll sit and snap a spell.”

  “He seems to like you,” Ty said when the kid darted toward the kitchen. A hint of longing twisted his insides. “How’d you get so good with him?”

  “Years of practice,” Doris answered. She flipped her long braid over her shoulder with the back of one hand. “There was a passel of boys around here once upon a time. You and J.D. were only two of them.”

  For a moment, only the sound of a mockingbird in the treetop broke the silence.

  Ty cleared his throat. “You think he’s mine?”

  Doris looked into the doorway where the child had disappeared. “He’s got Millie’s cheekbones, her fine features, that’s for sure. Is he yours? Can’t rightly answer that. You took a blood test.”

  The statement didn’t require a response. Ty gave one anyway. “Yep. Won’t get the results for another week or two.”