Читать книгу A Reunion For The Rancher - Brenda Minton - Страница 13

Chapter Four

On Saturday morning Carson headed to town with Brandon in tow. And Brandon in tow was easier said than done. Even though it was only nine in the morning he’d already done a good day’s work. With his nephew tagging along, it had been double duty. Especially when by eight the kid in question had managed to open a gate and let out a few horses. He’d caught the wild barn cat and managed to get scratched up good. And then he’d turned on the water in the bathroom and left it running.

As he drove Carson tossed his hat on the truck seat and brushed a hand through his hair. He cast a sideways look at the little boy and shook his head. The kid was almost asleep. And sleeping he looked pretty innocent. Cute, even. Carson felt the corner of his mouth tug up. Yeah, he wasn’t a bad kid. He just hadn’t had a lot of structure with Jenna.

This morning he’d asked Carson when his mommy was coming back. Carson shook his head at that, because he didn’t have an answer. He’d even tried to call his sister. She hadn’t answered.

Carson pulled up to Maggie’s Coffee Shop, grinning because not too long ago someone had stopped in town thinking to find one of those fancy city coffee places, not realizing a coffee shop was a diner with biscuits and gravy, strong coffee in a mug and maybe chicken fried steak for a lunch special.

“Ready for breakfast?” he asked his half-asleep nephew.

Brandon perked up. “Yeah. Pancakes, please!”

“You got it.”

He got out of the truck and motioned Brandon across, to get out on his side. The boy grabbed his own white cowboy hat and, with a grin, pushed it down on his head. He looked up at Carson, happy again and wide-awake. Together they walked up the sidewalk to Maggie’s. The place was packed, as he’d expected on a Saturday morning. Town was packed. He’d seen a dozen cars at Big Jim’s grocery store, and a half-dozen cars lined up at the pumps of the gas station. He guessed it was the nice weather. People wanted to get out and enjoy weather that was cool after a summer that had felt like they lived in a furnace.

He knew what to expect when he walked through the door of Maggie’s. A couple dozen men would be drinking coffee and solving the world’s problems. And a few would be trying to solve the thefts that had been hitting their community.

“Hey, Carson,” Ben Stillwater from the Stillwater ranch called out and motioned to an empty chair at their table.

A table with Byron McKay and his twin boys, Winston and Gareth. The boys were sixteen and fortunately didn’t look much like their dad. They both had strawberry blond hair like him but favored their momma otherwise, and they had that look of too much money and not enough responsibility.

Ben Stillwater was a twin, too. His identical twin, Grady, was in the army and stationed in Afghanistan. Ben had stayed home to rodeo and continue running the Stillwater ranch. They were identical, but that didn’t mean they were exactly alike.

“Who do you have with you?” Ben asked, reaching for a chair at a nearby table and placing it next to him. “Is this Jenna’s almost grown son?”

Brandon grinned and took the seat next to Ben. “I’m five.”

“I reckon you are.” Ben shot Carson a questioning look that he could only answer with a shrug of a shoulder.

Carson took the other empty chair and turned over the coffee cup sitting in front of him. The waitress, Sally Ann, only worked Saturdays. She smiled at the two of them as she hurried their way with coffee and menus.

“What are you all having today, Carson?”

“I’ll take the Saturday-morning special and Brandon would like pancakes and bacon. And to drink he’ll take—”

“Chocolate milk,” Brandon shouted.

Next to Carson, Ben laughed. “He’s going to keep you on your toes, my friend.”

“Yeah, I guess he will.”

Brandon gave Carson a look and then he turned to Ben. “I don’t think he can get on his toes. And Ruby is going to take him down a notch.”

Ben laughed loud and long. People turned to stare. Carson shot him a look, hoping to quell his mirth.

“That’s about the best thing I’ve heard in a long time.” Ben held his hand up. “Give me a fiver, little man.”

Brandon grinned and slapped his palm against Ben’s. Carson turned away from the two, hoping that would keep Ben from asking questions about Ruby and how Brandon would have heard her say anything about him.

The conversation across the table between Byron and another rancher caught Carson’s attention. He sipped his coffee and listened to the coffee shop gossip.

The foreman for the Marley ranch, a spread on the other side of town, came in and sat at the table next to theirs.

“Is it true you all got hit last night?” Byron asked as he shoveled a big bite of eggs into his mouth.

“Yeah, ten head and they burned a few bales of hay. That’s leading me to believe we don’t have professional cattle thieves on our hands. Professionals don’t light up a blaze to let everyone know they’re around.”

“Professionals don’t keep hitting small and taking things that don’t really matter,” Ben interjected as he cut up his biscuits and gravy.

The waitress showed up with Carson and Brandon’s food. She refilled his coffee, placed the bill next to his plate and took a second to talk to the little boy in their midst. He was eyeing pancakes heaped with butter, chocolate chips and syrup.

“Byron, have you all seen Betsy since her daddy died?” Ben asked, always being the one willing to wade right into troubled waters.

Brandon, only five but not oblivious to tension, looked up, watching the men at the table. Carson sighed, wishing Ben had left well enough alone. Byron and his cousin Mac McKay had never been close. Mac had run his small farm, but that hadn’t been enough to pay the bills. And when it all had come crashing in, when he’d needed the help of a relative, Byron had turned him down flat.

No one wanted to dwell on the night Mac, in a drunken stupor, had walked in front of a car. Betsy, his only child, had left town. Eighteen and on her own. Carson liked to think there were folks in town, himself included, who would have helped her out had she stayed. He only wished Mac would have taken his offer of help.

“Betsy isn’t my problem,” Byron blustered. That brought Carson back to the conversation. “The girl is just like her dad. She isn’t going to get anything out of life if she isn’t willing to work for it. I didn’t give Mac handouts and I won’t give her any.”

“She’s a kid,” Winston McKay spoke softly from his chair just a few seats down the table. He glanced at his dad and went back to eating.

The two boys looked at each other. Meaningful looks. Carson watched, interested, and his opinion of the two boys came up a notch.

Byron didn’t seem to share his opinion. “If I find out you two have been helping her, you will find out what it’s like to not have anything.”

Ben cleared his throat. “Let’s take it down a notch. We’ve got a little cowboy here trying to eat his breakfast. And I’d like to enjoy mine.”

“Agreed,” Carson voiced his opinion to let things settle a little.

Byron blustered and set his cup down, slopping coffee on the bill next to his plate. He brushed it off with a napkin.

“Yesterday Lucy went out to the Donovan place again,” Byron said, changing the subject without much finesse. “I still say that kid is guilty and we ought to just arrest him.”

Carson sat back, looking at the other man and wondering why he couldn’t just be reasonable. “Byron, there are a few problems with that thought. Number one, ‘we’ can’t arrest anyone. Number two, the kid doesn’t have any of the stolen property. You can’t arrest someone just because you don’t like them.”

“And you’re only taking up for him because that sister of his is back in town, and you’ve forgotten that your daddy didn’t want you messing around—”

“Be quiet.” Carson leaned across the table. “I’ve had enough, Byron. You want to accuse your neighbors, stir up trouble and pit people against each other. But as far as I know the Donovans have never done a thing to you.”

“I’m just saying they aren’t any better than that cousin of mine was. Mac wanted my money, my resources. They’ll take what they can—”

Carson raised a hand. He didn’t need to hear any more. He was sure his dad had probably told Byron about the payoff to Ruby. That didn’t mean the rest of the county needed to hear it.

“Byron, the last thing I need today is a case of indigestion, so let’s leave off. We can talk about something that matters or enjoy a little peace and quiet.”

Ben cleared his throat. “I hear she’s giving riding lessons. I sold her a pony a few weeks ago. She’s going to need saddles if anyone has old ones they aren’t using.”

Carson started to answer but before he could get the words out, Byron scooted his chair back and stood. He gave his boys a meaningful glare.

“I guess I’ll just leave,” Byron grumbled as he grabbed the bill next to his plate. “But I want you to know, as vice president of the league, I’m going to start organizing patrols. Call it a neighborhood watch if that makes you and Lucy happy. If our sheriff can’t solve these crimes, we’ll do it ourselves.”

“Go ahead, Byron. I’m not going to stop you.”

His boys stood up, a nod acknowledging the other men at the table as they followed their dad out. Ben whistled and leaned his chair back on two legs.

“That man is strung tighter than his fences!”

“Yeah, just a little.”

“About Ruby,” Ben waded in again, a big grin on his face.

“Leave it. Can’t a man just eat his breakfast?”

Ben laughed at that. “Yeah, I guess he can.”

Carson finished his breakfast, wishing for once that he’d gone out of town for the meal rather than into Maggie’s and what appeared to be a real hornet’s nest. What he wouldn’t give for a quiet life.

Instead of that quiet life he walked out of the diner some thirty minutes later with Brandon in tow. His nephew had managed to knock over his glass of chocolate milk, not once but twice. He’d poured salt in Ben’s coffee when they hadn’t been looking and he’d unscrewed the lid on the ketchup. Carson had fortunately caught that little trick.

He wasn’t so sure Ben hadn’t given him the idea to try the trick.

As they walked out the front door, the old adage about things had nowhere to go but up seemed as far off as the moon. Ruby pulled her old farm truck into an empty parking space and hopped out. She saw him and frowned.

* * *

Ruby could have gone a whole year without seeing Carson again. Or so she wanted to believe. But she couldn’t lie, not even to herself. Seeing him standing on that sidewalk with his nephew almost tore her heart out. It was a reaction she hadn’t expected. But seeing him with that little boy took her back. The sight made her think of dreams and what she might have had.

If wishes were ponies, Granny Iva always said. Wishes weren’t ponies. Ponies, saddles, bridles and feed were bought with cold, hard cash. Just like Carson’s dad had tried to buy her. He’d tried to buy her and he’d tried to threaten her, with Iva as his target. She shook her head to clear that memory.

“Hey, Ruby!” Brandon pulled away from his uncle. “Did you get that new pony you were telling me about?”

“As a matter of fact, I did. Derek hauled him home today.”

“Is he fast?”

She smiled, because to a little boy it was all about speed.

“I think he might be the fastest pony I have on the place!”

He started to bounce. She smoothed a hand down the little boy’s shoulder.

“What did you have for breakfast?”

“Pancakes with chocolate chips and syrup. And I had bacon. And chocolate milk.”

She glanced from the boy to Carson. He shrugged and she shook her head.

“That’s a lot of sugar for one little boy,” she said, more for Carson than the child. “Maybe tomorrow just have eggs and toast?”

He wrinkled his Thorn nose at her. “I don’t like eggs.”

“No, I don’t imagine you do.” She glanced toward Maggie’s and then let her gaze settle on Carson. What a mistake. He stood there, relaxed and in control, his keys in his hand. The other hand reached for Brandon. “Is Doc Grainger inside? I called out to the ranch but they said he was in town having coffee.”

Doc, as they all called him, had been born and raised on the Grainger spread. As much as the ranch was a part of him, he’d shared that he never felt like a rancher. He was giving the community a year and then he was heading for the city to practice medicine. She, like many others, hoped he’d stay in town.

Ruby knew him well enough to doubt he would.

“Yeah, I think he was sitting in a booth at the back. Is everything okay?” Concern edged into Carson’s tone, genuine concern. It softened the brittle tone and softened Ruby’s heart a smidge.

“I think everything is okay. Iva doesn’t tell me everything, you know. She’s tough like that. But this morning I can tell she doesn’t feel well, maybe just a cold coming on, but I thought I’d see if he’d stop by the house later. I know he’s a pediatrician, but he’s always been so good about checking on her.”

“If you need anything...”

“We’re fine, Carson.” Her words didn’t sound as strong as she had intended but repeating them in a firmer tone wouldn’t serve her purpose, either.

“Can I come by and see the pony? Does he have a name?” Brandon tugged at her hand as he asked the questions.

“His name is Peanut and I will let you ride him Monday when you have your lesson.”

Carson stepped closer, Brandon’s hand still in his. “Are you sure everything is okay with Iva? Do you need to drive her to Austin?”

She shook her head. She didn’t need his help. She didn’t need him close. She didn’t need to get all tangled up in leftover emotions. That’s all this was, leftovers. They might sound good, but rarely were as good as the first time around. She swallowed and met his warm gaze and saw concern. Inwardly, she cringed. She didn’t want his concern. Remembering him as a person who genuinely cared complicated things.

“I’m sure she’s fine. But I’ll feel better if Doc can come out and check on her.”

“Let me know if anything changes. And if you need to cancel on Monday, we’ll understand.”

At his mention of canceling, Brandon groaned. Ruby smiled down at the little guy. “Don’t worry, we won’t cancel.”

“We’ll go then. Let me know if you need anything.” Carson walked away with his nephew.

She watched them go, drawn to the pair, drawn by the past and by the present. That was even more of a complication. One she didn’t need. It seemed that somewhere beneath the hard exterior, the Carson she knew still lived and breathed.

The door to Maggie’s opened and the man she had been looking for stepped out. Tyler Grainger, tall and all blond good looks, stopped to look around as he pulled car keys out of his pocket. He saw Ruby and nodded.

“Ruby, how’s Iva?” Tyler headed her way with an easy gait, comfortable in his own skin. He still looked like a kid who’d grown up in this small town. But she understood wanting to shed that skin and be someone or something else.

“She’s not good, Tyler. I’m worried, and of course she refuses to go to the doctor. She says she went and going wears her out.”

“I can stop by,” he offered as he glanced at the watch on his wrist. “In an hour?”

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble. I know house calls are a thing of the past and this isn’t your specialty.”

He shrugged off her comments. “I don’t mind.”

“Thank you.”

A truck started. She turned, knowing it would be Carson’s and realizing immediately that she shouldn’t have turned. It was too easy, this getting pulled into the past, into remembering how he’d cared.

She didn’t need those reminders. She didn’t need to think about confiding in him the way she once had. No, she had to think about her small family and how to keep them together and keep them solvent.

“Everything okay between you and Carson?” Tyler asked.