A Ranch Between Them, page 21
Rosalie’s best guess was that Brady’s abrupt departure had a lot to do with the beating the eggs were taking, as well as Katie’s prolonged silence. It wasn’t like her not to chitchat while they worked together in the kitchen.
“Sorry.” Katie worked up a smile as she added the dry ingredients to the eggs and sugar, but the smile evaporated as soon as she glanced back at the bowl.
Rosalie let out a silent sigh. After raising all these competent adults, it still pained her to see her kids and grandkids hurt. She glanced toward the living room where Kendra and Bailey were sound asleep on the sofa with Nick dozing in between them. Once they awoke, she and Katie wouldn’t be able to talk—at least not without making a big deal about it—so she decided to dive in while she had the chance. And she chose to dive straight into the deep end.
“I’m sorry that Brady wasn’t able to stay for Christmas.” Rosalie figured that when Nick had explained why Brady wouldn’t be there for the holiday, he’d probably given her about two-thirds of the facts, holding back the rest in a misguided effort to protect his grandmother from...whatever it was grandchildren protected their grandparents from. Despite his efforts, she had a pretty good idea what was going on.
Katie’s gaze flashed up at the mention of Brady, telling Rosalie that she’d hit the nail on the head. If she hadn’t, she would have been surprised.
“He has other commitments,” Katie said to the bowl she was stirring.
“So I understand.”
Come on, Katie, love...give a little.
“This job is perfect for him. I’m surprised he didn’t think of doing it before.”
“Sometimes it hurts to be involved with something you love but can’t do anymore. Brady was quite the competitor.”
“Yes.” Katie bit her lip as she struggled to stir the last of the sugar and flour into the eggs and butter. She finally lifted the wooden spoon and scraped the remainder of the dough off with a smaller spoon. Then she smiled at Rosalie. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather speak of something else.”
“Fair enough.” Rosalie focused on chopping nuts for fudge. It was hard to accept that her grandkids were adults who had to sort out their lives and deal with consequences of decisions made, just as she and Carl had, but accept she must.
And it was equally hard to accept that when she wasn’t thinking about Katie being unhappy, she was thinking about Will McGuire. What was the man thinking, involving himself in her affairs like that? And what was she thinking, noticing, despite everything, that he was a very good-looking man? She’d been widowed for two years, and yes, she had needs, emotional and otherwise, but a rancher...no. She would not look twice at another rancher. She’d lived that life and now she was ready for another.
“He drives me crazy,” Katie muttered as she yanked a length of plastic wrap off the roll and covered the cookie dough bowl. Clearly, she might want to speak of something else, but she was having a hard time thinking about something else. Rosalie was kind of having the same issue.
“There’s peanut butter ribbon in the downstairs freezer. I left the ice cream when I moved.” Rosalie loved ice cream and always stocked her freezer with a variety of pint containers—perfect for solo consumption. Carl had not been an ice-cream man.
“This situation is beyond being fixed by peanut butter ribbon.”
“It couldn’t hurt,” Rosalie muttered more to herself than to Katie.
“You’re right.”
Katie popped the bowl into the fridge and then opened the door leading to the basement where two chest freezers took up almost an entire room. When she came back upstairs, she was carrying two pints of ice cream, both peanut butter ribbon.
“A two-carton problem?”
“I’m saving myself a trip later.” Katie started toward the kitchen freezer, then came to a stop when Rosalie held out her hand. Slowly Katie relinquished the container before opening the flatware drawer and handing Rosalie a spoon. Her eyes never left Rosalie’s face during the process.
“What is your peanut butter ice cream problem?”
Rosalie shook her head. She wasn’t one to unload—especially when she was in new territory and edging toward a situation she wasn’t certain how to handle. How did one handle a man like Will McGuire? Why couldn’t she stop thinking about the man?
“Something to do with the Taylors?”
“No.” She grabbed on to that line of questioning. “But I’m sure it’s coming.”
Katie leaned her elbows on the counter as she put another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth. “Then what is it?”
“Katie... I’m not telling.”
Katie’s eyes went wide and then she gestured with the spoon. “No fair.”
“Totally fair. I get to have my private concerns, just like you have yours.”
A gust of wind blasted rain and sleet into the dark windows, bringing both of their heads around.
“Fine,” Katie said as she walked to the window and stared out at the sleet. “It’s really coming down. Has the ranch ever flooded?”
“No, I think we’re safe in that regard.” But the river could get high. It’d taken out the old bridge the year she and Carl were first married, which had led to all kinds of complications since the only other route to the ranch was literally ten miles of bad road.
There was a noise in the hallway and Katie strained her neck to see who it was. “Ah. The first survivor of the nap,” she murmured as Nick walked into the room, one side of his face red from sleep.
“The first rule of single fatherhood. Sleep whenever you can.” He looked at the ice-cream containers and rubbed his forehead. “Okay, let me guess... Brady.” He nodded at Katie, then shifted his attention to Rosalie. “And...the Taylors?”
“Grandma is dealing with a mystery problem.”
Nick’s eyes narrowed. “No kidding. What’s his name?”
To her horror, Rosalie felt guilty color rising from her neckline. Even if Nick had been kidding, she’d just given herself away, but judging from the look on his face, he hadn’t been kidding.
“I’m not prying into your lives,” she said firmly.
Nick grinned at her. “Point taken. Any more ice cream?”
“Tons,” Katie answered.
“Excellent.”
Rosalie smiled as Nick headed downstairs, then shook her head. “It’s going to be hard to mind our own business now that the family is back together.”
“Maybe we should make a pact.”
“Do you think it would do any good?”
“Not one bit,” Katie said solemnly. “We have that bad habit of protecting our own.”
“Brady’s the same way,” Nick said as he topped the stairs carrying a carton of Moose Tracks.
“You think that’s what he’s doing?” Katie asked.
“Don’t you?” Nick gave his sister a pointed look.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She raised her chin and drilled him with a look.
That made two of them, which meant a change of subject was in order. Rosalie stabbed her spoon into the carton. She needed a distraction, so she went with the obvious.
“About those Taylors...”
* * *
BRADY COULD HONESTLY say that the time between his talk with Nick, who seemed to understand his need to head to Vegas, and actually leaving the Callahan Ranch after he and Nick had dug out his trailer were some of the tensest hours of his life.
More than once while he’d been packing his stuff, he’d started for the door with the intention of finding Katie and telling her that she was off base—that she didn’t understand why he needed to leave.
Every time he stopped himself. She was wrong about one thing—he would be back. He wasn’t walking away from the Callahan family, although falling for Katie, again, had complicated matters.
He was so damned glad to be heading somewhere where they needed him—or would need him. The Christmas break clinic had a full staff, but the powers that be had been happy to squeeze in a rider with his experience, with the promise of a full-time job shortly before the new year. He’d stay in his trailer on the grounds of the school, along with some of the other instructors, and basically his only expenses were propane and food.
It wasn’t ideal, but it was a decent place to land while the search continued for his cheating agent. He could save some money, might even be able to work in some continuing education classes. But for the moment, being a trainer at bronc riding school was good enough. At least it was a step forward.
And Katie...
Every time he thought about her, his chest went tight. But it wasn’t like he could ask her to live with him in a trailer in a Vegas parking lot, right?
It took more than love to put together a life. It took opportunity and resources.
Katie was right about him not being good at sharing the bumpy road, so the solution was for him to smooth it out. Get a job that wasn’t given to him as a favor from a family he loved. Save money for school. Make something of himself.
He had to try. He’d hate himself if he didn’t.
The one thing he couldn’t do was ask Katie to share his life while he was at rock-freaking-bottom. And once she had some time to reflect, she’d understand that.
Snow was coming down hard when he pulled out of the RV campground just outside Gavin, having chosen to spend the night there in his trailer rather than on the Callahan Ranch. He lost almost half of his travel day stocking up on groceries, then dealing with a broken bearing on his trailer wheel. Finally, hours after he’d intended to leave, he was almost on his way.
His last stop before leaving town was at the bank where he cashed the check Nick had cut him for wages he’d actually earned, unlike the wages he would have received if he’d stayed through January and February. Once calving started in March, he would have been earning his keep again, but until then, Nick would have essentially been paying him to be on call in case of emergencies. Not much happened on a ranch during the dead of winter.
The wind hit him hard as he left the bank and he put his head down, hunching his shoulders against the arctic blast.
“Some weather.”
Brady glanced up to see Will McGuire standing on the snowy sidewalk near the front of his truck. Really? Was he here to rub things in? “Yeah.”
“Is that little goat doing okay?”
Brady frowned at the man, wondering why they were discussing goats instead of him making yet another bad decision by trusting his thieving agent. “Wendell? He seemed happy enough the last time I saw him.”
Will jammed his hands deeper in his coat pockets. “I owe you an apology for the other day. Out in the pasture with the four-wheeler.” He jerked his head toward the café two doors down. “I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”
Brady needed to be on his way if he was going to make it to Pocatello that night. With the snow it would be slow-going, but Will was already walking to the Mad Hen Café, leaving Brady with two choices—get in his truck and start driving or follow Will into the café and take his lumps. Again.
He’d barely joined Will in the padded red leather booth when a server wearing jingle bell earrings arrived, glass carafe in hand, asking if they wanted coffee.
“Just coffee,” Will said. “We won’t need menus.” The server turned over the cups and filled them, then moved to the next booth, leaving Brady facing Will McGuire across the table.
Will scowled at him. “Relax, okay? You’re making me jumpy.”
Neither of them made a move to touch their cups.
Brady propped his forearms on the table. He wasn’t certain what had caused Will to think he owed Brady an apology, but it went both ways. “I appreciate the fact that you tried to send me in the right direction with that scholarship. Everything you said that night was true.”
“I can’t remember exactly what I said. I was a tad frustrated at the time.”
“I noticed,” Brady said dryly.
“You were salutorian, Brady. With my money and the other scholarships you could have won, you’d have had a full ride. Instead, you had to listen to Stan and take to the rodeo circuit.”
Brady studied the table. “I figured I could go to school anytime.” He looked up with a matter-of-fact expression. “But it doesn’t work as well the other way around. Rodeo wouldn’t wait, and I was at the top of my game. It seemed stupid not to continue.”
“And you won a lot of money.”
Brady swallowed at the mention of money. “Yeah. I did.” He held the older man’s gaze. “I made the decision that felt right at the time, even though it meant breaking my promise to you.”
“And I was afraid you were going to turn out like Colton.”
Brady gave a nod.
“You didn’t.”
Brady gave a small snort. Not according to his mother.
“You were wild, but not like your dad. He had no concept of consequences. It was like there was something in his brain that wasn’t fully connected to the fear center.” Will smiled grimly. “But he was likable. A guy that made you want to save him from himself.” He shook his head. “I heard you’re buying property in the Hayden Valley.”
Brady pressed his lips together at the change of topic. “Things have changed.”
“How?”
He didn’t want to talk about it. He wasn’t going to talk about it—wasn’t going to admit that he was in an even worse place than he’d been after the bronc fell on him.
Will gave Brady a hard look before settling his forearms on the table and leaning across the table. “I know you have a habit of holding things close, but I’m going to hear a version of the story at the co-op within a matter of days. I may as well hear the truth.”
“The truth leaves me feeling raw,” Brady said darkly. “My agent robbed me and now I’m heading to Vegas to guest star at a bucking clinic.”
Will straightened in his seat, a stunned expression on his face. “You were robbed?”
Brady told him the story and Will listened with an ever-deepening frown. Finally he reached for his coffee, which had to be just this side of lukewarm. “How’s Katie handling it?”
“Katie’s not really involved.”
Will’s silver eyebrows lifted. “That’s hard to believe, given what I’ve observed.”
Did everyone know that he was in love with Katie?
The answer came a split second later when Will added, “From the way she defended you, I just assumed that you two finally figured things out.”
“First I have to figure it out.”
Will gave him a sharp look. “Always back to you.”
The older man’s words startled him. Brady opened his mouth to fight back, then thought better of it. “Yeah. Maybe so.”
“Bad habit, Brady. Take it from one who knows.”
“Adversity can tear relationships apart. I’m not ready to risk that.” When he came back to Katie, he’d have something to offer her.
“Yeah. It can also glue them together. It depends on the people, Brady. You have to ask yourself, what kind of person are you? And what kind of person is Katie?”
Brady fought for an answer, but before he could say anything, Will stabbed his finger on the table. “Things aren’t perfect. They never will be. Neither will you be.” His voice lowered a notch as he added, “Don’t wait for perfect, Brady. Perfect never comes.”
* * *
“HIDING?” NICK ASKED as he leaned his head in through Katie’s open bedroom door.
“Resting,” she said from where she stood at her closet, trying to find something festive to wear on a day when she wasn’t feeling all that festive. But Christmas Eve with the family demanded full participation, regardless of her feelings, and that meant dressing the part. She gave Nick a smile that felt pretty genuine given the circumstances. “Someone brought small tornadoes into the house.”
As if on cue, Bailey and Kendra came racing down the hallway, their stocking-clad feet thudding on the hardwood floor. They slipped past their father and climbed up onto the bed, cuddling together on Katie’s pillows. “We’re invisible,” Kendra whispered, putting her finger to her lips when Bailey giggled.
Katie cocked her head at Nick. “Did you hear mice?”
The girls dissolved into peals of laughter, then Bailey held her hands at her chest and wrinkled her nose. “Squeak, squeak. Squeak, squeak.”
Brady had been right about the ranch being a livelier place after Nick and his family arrived. Katie only hoped that she was successful in hiding her mood, which was not suited for a proper celebration of Christmas Eve, from the rest of the family.
“Very nice, Miss Mousy,” Nick said. “Now if you ladies will excuse us, Aunt Katie and I need a moment of privacy.”
Katie’s stomach dropped, but she managed a careless smile. “Tell Grandma that I’ll be there in a few minutes and we’ll see about cookies.”
“Making or eating?” Kendra asked.
“Could be both...”
The girls exchanged looks, then slipped past their dad again, racing into the kitchen where Katie heard Rosalie say, “I was wondering where my help had gotten to.”
“They’re excited for Christmas,” Nick said as he glanced down the hall. “Usually Kendra is a lot more reserved.”
“It’s good to see her play.”
Nick grinned. “She’ll start enforcing rules soon.”
“I figure this will help them sleep tonight.”
“Only until about four in the morning. Then all bets are off.”
“Bailey Jean Callahan.” Rosalie’s voice floated in from the direction of the kitchen. “Close that refrigerator. You’re letting all the cold air out.”
“Ever hear that before?” Nick asked.
“Only a couple hundred times.” Katie laughed as she pulled a red sweater with pearls sewn around the neck out of the closet. It would do.
