To Trust a Rancher Read online

  Becca resisted the urge to pull Noah closer. Cling to him for all she was worth. How could she have forgotten...

  This woman was Noah’s grandmother.

  “So, where did you put it?” the older woman asked him.

  He shrugged his shoulders. “It might be in the room,” he mumbled, distracted by a child sitting in a cart passing them. The little boy was licking an orange pumpkin-shaped sucker and eyeing Noah.

  “The room?” Clearly puzzled, Mrs. Mitchell looked at Becca. “Where are you staying?”

  “Mommy, I’m hungry,” Noah whined, and Becca couldn’t have been happier for the interruption.

  “I know. But you need to keep your voice down, and what have I told you about interrupting grown-ups when they’re talking?”

  Noah muttered an apology, though he was far more interested in keeping track of the lollipop.

  “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Mitchell, but it was a long drive and I really should go feed him so he can take a nap.”

  “Don’t you worry. I understand all too well. This one here,” she said, inclining her head at Ryder as he helped her straighten, “he would’ve eaten twenty-four seven if I’d let him. I doubt he ever went long enough between snacks to be hungry. And mind you, it lasted until he left for college.”

  “Oh, please don’t tell me that,” Becca said, laughing. “My food bill is already more than my rent.”

  “Come on, Mom, let’s go,” Ryder said. “She needs to feed the boy.”

  “I really do.” Becca smiled. “But it was so nice seeing you, Mrs. Mitchell. And you, Ryder.”

  He didn’t respond. She wasn’t surprised. Something had triggered his apparent disdain for her. Did he think she should’ve dragged Amy here under protest?

  “For heaven’s sake, you’re an adult now. Call me Gail. How long will you be here? I’d love to have you come to the ranch for a visit.”

  Ryder had gotten his mom moving. She’d taken a few steps but stopped, waiting for Becca’s answer. Ryder’s piercing stare was unreadable. Regardless, if Gail wasn’t there, Becca didn’t doubt that she and Ryder would be having an entirely different conversation.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” Becca told her. “How’s that?”

  Gail’s face lit up. “You still have the number?”

  Becca nodded.

  “Oh, and where is it that you’re staying?”

  “At the motel,” Noah announced before Becca could stop him. “There’s a elevato and I get to push the buttons.”

  His words tended to run together when he was excited. Becca supposed it was too much to hope that they hadn’t caught the first part.

  “The motel?” Gail looked to her for confirmation.

  Even Ryder seemed interested.

  “Gail?” The shrill voice came from somewhere behind Becca. “Yoo-hoo, over here.” The woman waiting at the deli counter was waving frantically. “Don’t go anywhere. I need to talk to you.”

  “Oh, it’s Irma.” Mrs. Mitchell didn’t seem pleased.

  “Mommy, that lady intrumted,” Noah said with a mischievous grin.

  “I know.” Becca stifled a smile. What a little imp. “Now, say goodbye.”

  Gail’s chuckle did nothing to erase her troubled expression. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” she said. “In the meantime, I’m going to throw something out that I’d like you to really think about. We’ve got a lot of room at the ranch and you’re welcome to stay with us. In fact, I would love it. A motel is no place for an active young boy.”

  Ryder’s jaw tightened and he pinned her with a hard stare. Clearly he didn’t share his mom’s enthusiasm. He’d be relieved to know Becca wouldn’t accept the offer. Not in a million years.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING, Becca and Noah went down to the lobby to check out the complimentary continental breakfast. Everything from the locally made muffins and cinnamon buns to the bowls of fresh fruit looked amazing. They even offered two varieties of dry cereal. Eating breakfast here every day would give her pocketbook a small boost.

  She poured some orange juice and a glass of milk for Noah, and filled a mug of coffee for herself. Of course he had eyes only for the sweets. Becca picked out an apple and a banana and let him have half a cinnamon bun as a special treat.

  Patty, the woman behind the front desk, had kindly loaned her a tray so she could carry everything back to their room. Patty had even grabbed a couple of oranges from the back and set them on the tray with a second cinnamon bun despite Becca’s protest.

  Ten minutes later, sitting at the small table across from Noah, Becca had finished the bun and her coffee. How could she have forgotten Marge’s cinnamon rolls? Back when she and Amy were teenagers, they’d gone to Marge’s Diner for the sweet gooey buns at least once a week.

  The pleasant memory faded in seconds. Becca checked her phone, even knowing it was useless. Still nothing from Amy. Derek’s call had chipped away some of Becca’s hope, but not all of it.

  Glancing up, she saw a little arm slowly reaching across the table. “Noah, stop. Finish your banana.”

  “No. I want that,” he said, pointing a sticky finger at the other half of the bun, which she’d already wrapped up in a napkin.

  “I said you could have half.”

  “No!”

  “Don’t yell. Drink your milk.”

  His cheeks growing pink, he stuck out his lower lip, and she prayed a tantrum wasn’t brewing.

  She’d always limited his sugar intake, for the usual health reasons, but also to temper his intermittent outbursts. Isabella had assured her that Noah was no different from any other four-year-old, but that didn’t stop Becca from worrying. She wanted to believe Amy, who swore she hadn’t done any drugs while she was pregnant. In fact, her addiction hadn’t taken hold until after Noah was born. Still, Becca would be a fool to dismiss the possibility.

  Fortunately, Noah’s pout gave way to a big yawn.

  Neither of them had slept well last night. Becca knew exactly what had made her restless, but she had expected Noah to conk out.

  Before she got lost in thoughts of Ryder and Gail and how she would handle the phone call that she’d promised to make, she rose and went around the table to Noah’s side.

  She crouched down and slipped her arms around him. “I love you, sweet boy.”

  “Love you, too, Mommy.”

  She leaned back to look at him. “What do you think about taking a nap?”

  His dark blue eyes turned stormy. So much like Ryder’s yesterday that her heart rate doubled. God, she wished she’d never seen the similarity.

  “I’m going to lie down, too. I was hoping we could take a nap together.”

  Noah frowned, clearly trying to decide if he liked the idea or not.

  “Then later, when we wake up, we’ll go for a drive. There are all kinds of horses and cows around here.”

  His face brightened. “Where?”

  “Not too far from town.”

  “Can we pet them?”

  “Maybe,” she said, using his napkin to wipe the corner of his mouth. “Finish your milk and banana, okay?”

  “Okay,” he said, drawing out the word into a sigh as he picked up his plastic cup.

  Becca got to her feet and cleared the table, making sure she hid the remaining half of the cinnamon roll where he couldn’t see it. Maybe they’d split it later.

  “Can we ride the horses?” Noah asked, setting down his empty cup and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Horses are very big. And you don’t know how to ride.”

  “Do you?”

  Becca nodded. “It’s been a long time, though.”

  “Will you teach me?”

  “We’ll see,” she said, knowing that wouldn’t happen. “Go wash your face and hands, please.”

  A
fter putting out the Do-Not-Disturb sign, she pulled back the sheets she’d tidied earlier and fluffed Noah’s pillow. He left the bathroom and headed straight for the bed, not grumbling once. But he didn’t close his eyes until she joined him.

  She hadn’t tried to trick him. She welcomed sleep: twenty minutes, a half hour, three hours, whatever she could get. It didn’t take long for the guilt and fear to sink their teeth into her. Forgetting that Noah wasn’t hers by blood was much easier when she wasn’t staring his grandmother and uncle in the face.

  In the plus column, Becca knew returning to Blackfoot Falls had been the right thing to do. Here, she was spared the fear that Derek might suddenly show up and drag Noah away. Aside from the Mitchells, and worrying about Amy, her other problem had to do with work.

  Her boss was a nice guy but his patience extended only so far. And she needed a paycheck. Soon. Just because she’d left LA didn’t mean she didn’t have to pay her rent. And Isabella, God bless her, had refused the money Becca had tried to give her since it wasn’t her fault she wouldn’t be needed for a week...or two. But Becca preferred to be optimistic.

  Later, she figured she’d go take a look at her grandparents’ house. See what kind of shape it was in. Thinking about the modest homestead surrounded by blue sky and open space calmed her. Her pulse had slowed and her eyelids drooped. She snuggled into the pillow and started to drift off...

  A knock at the door jarred her awake. She looked over at Noah. Thankfully he hadn’t moved.

  She leaped out of bed and raced to the door. Forestalling a second knock, Becca skipped the peephole and pulled the door open. “Ryder?”

  He took off his Stetson and ran a hand through his sandy-brown hair. “I hope this isn’t too early.”

  “Um, no.” Her heart pounded, and for a second she considered telling him it was a bad time. But not knowing what he wanted would drive her crazy. She glanced back at Noah, who still hadn’t stirred. “Come in,” she whispered, stepping aside to let him pass. “We’ll have to keep our voices down.”

  As Ryder crossed the threshold, he saw Noah curled up in the middle of the bed. “I can come back later.”

  The faint scent of leather and saddle soap drifted in with him, bringing with it memories of long ago afternoons, her hanging out in the stables with him and his dad, asking endless questions. Until now she hadn’t fully appreciated how patient they’d been with her.

  “Now is better,” she said. “We’re going for a drive later.”

  “I’d hate to wake him.”

  “He’ll be okay. We don’t exactly live in the quietest neighborhood in LA.” She led him to the table, suddenly conscious of her sloppy gray sweatpants and her oversize black sweatshirt sans bra. Not that he’d notice. Anyway, she was too nervous to care. He hadn’t smiled once and she couldn’t imagine what was so important that he’d show up unannounced like this.

  She sat in the same chair she’d used earlier, and he took Noah’s. The table was small but perfectly adequate...until Ryder rested his elbows on the wood veneer surface and leaned across it. Her first impulse was to scoot her chair back. Then she realized he’d leaned close so as not to disturb Noah.

  A flicker of amusement relaxed his features. “I woke you. Sorry.”

  “No,” she said, her hand going to her messy hair. “I was just trying to get Noah to—” Becca sighed. She had a pretty good idea what she looked like. “I might’ve drifted off.”

  “This won’t take long,” he murmured in a pitch so low she had to lean forward to hear him. “Have you thought about my mom’s offer?”

  Becca should’ve known why he’d come. “Yes, I have. And the answer is no, we won’t be staying at your ranch. So you don’t have to worry about it.”

  A wry half grin rested on his well-shaped mouth. “I want you to take her up on it.”

  “Why?”

  “Come on, Becca, are we really going to do this?”

  “Do what?”

  He stared silently back at her, though not as if he were considering the question. Ryder looked as he had yesterday. Just plain disgusted.

  Pretending to check on Noah, she turned her head. Between Amy’s lies and Becca’s guilt over believing the worst about him, and of course, the biggie—the secret she was keeping from the Mitchells—it was difficult for her to keep all the confusing emotions in check. No telling what her face was giving away.

  Something else occurred to her. If Amy had lied to her, she’d probably lied to her family. About what, though? Becca couldn’t ask. No way she could stir that hornet’s nest and expect to come out unscathed.

  “Because you owe her,” Ryder finally said.

  Chapter Five

  Ryder watched a flush creep across Becca’s cheeks as she briefly met his eyes. Guilt, no doubt. Which was fitting. If she hadn’t manipulated Amy into running off with her, his sister would have probably married Billy, whose folks owned the Circle K. She would’ve settled down right there in Blackfoot Falls and given their mom a couple of grandbabies by now.

  Something Ryder had failed to do.

  Damn, he couldn’t let that line of thinking sabotage him. He’d already wasted too much time steeped in regret, wondering how everything in his marriage had gone so wrong.

  Becca hadn’t said a word. And now that she’d turned back to look at her son, Ryder couldn’t read her.

  He’d never had a problem doing that when she was a kid. Back then, when she’d followed him around with big puppy dog eyes, her expression could tell a whole story. His mom had threatened to ground him for a year if he said one word to embarrass her.

  At the time he’d been twenty-one, too old to be grounded, but he hadn’t done anything to make her feel awkward. He’d liked Becca. She’d had a healthy respect for horses and ranching in general. Except for that year after her mom had moved to Alaska with her new husband. Becca had practically transformed overnight.

  When she stubbornly refused to look at him again, he asked, “Does the kid have a father?”

  “He has a name. It’s Noah,” she said, turning back to Ryder with a fire in her eyes he hadn’t seen before. “I didn’t use a sperm donor, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  He almost smiled. “Are you married?”

  At first, she just stared at him. “How is that your business?”

  “It’s not.”

  She blinked. “How about you and Leanne? You must have kids by now.”

  Ryder winced a little. “We’re divorced.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  “It happens.”

  “Any kids?”

  He shook his head.

  Becca sighed. “I’m not married. Never have been. It’s just Noah and me.”

  Ryder turned to look at the boy snuggled under the covers. “He’s a cute kid.”

  “He is.” Her lips lifted in a gentle smile, then all of a sudden her guard went up.

  Ryder hadn’t said or done anything to provoke it. Yet the barrier between them was so obvious it was almost tangible.

  “Frankly, I don’t understand why you’d want us around,” she said. “You certainly didn’t hide your feelings yesterday.”

  “All right. While we’re being frank,” he said, and she blinked at his mocking tone, “I think you know something about Amy you aren’t telling us.”

  “I don’t even know where she is. And that’s the truth.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Becca sighed. “I don’t know how to say it any plainer than that.”

  “Noah said she gave him a toy.”

  “Yes. When she came by my place last week, but I haven’t seen her since. I’ve tried calling her cell but she hasn’t answered.”

  “You guys don’t share a place?”

  “Not for a few years. She lives with her boyfriend.”

  Ryder h
eard a trace of scorn in her voice, saw her tense. Clearly she didn’t like the guy, he thought, then noticed the tiny quiver at the corner of her mouth. No, it was more than dislike. She was afraid. “Tell me about this boyfriend of hers.”

  Crossing her arms over her chest, she hunched her shoulders. “I don’t know him, not really. I’m not a fan so Amy doesn’t bring him around.”

  “You know enough to dislike him. What is it about him that you—?”

  “Look, ask Amy, okay? It’s her business. I won’t discuss it with you.”

  “I’d be more than happy to ask her if she’d ever bother calling. Or if she would give us her damn number. Did you know we haven’t heard from her in a year? And that she blocked her number?”

  “Keep it down. You’re going to wake Noah.”

  “Come on, Becca. Work with me here. You look worried, so naturally now I’m concerned.”

  She briefly closed her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said, rubbing her right temple.

  He waited for her to continue. And got nothing. “Guess I should’ve listened to my gut. Hell, I can still drive down there. How many hours did it take you?”

  “No.” Eyes wide, she stared at him. “Don’t. Please.”

  Ryder felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. “You want to tell me why I shouldn’t?” he said. “Because I gotta say, by the look on your face, I’m thinking I should’ve left a week ago.”

  “Please, Ryder.” She reached across the table and clutched his hand. “Amy’s leaving him. She might’ve done it already.”

  “The boyfriend?”

  She nodded. “If you show up, it’ll make things worse.”

  That made no sense at all. Something sure had rattled her. She hadn’t let go of his hand. In fact, she was squeezing tighter, though he doubted she was aware of it.

  “Look, if you’d just tell me the truth,” he said, “maybe I can help.”

  Becca blinked, then looked at her fingers curling over his hand, her fingernails digging into his palm. Her eyes widened a fraction. Oh, yeah, she was rattled. She hadn’t even figured out he’d been bluffing. How could he show up when he didn’t even know where Amy lived?