Читать книгу A Ranch Called Home - Candy Halliday, Candy Halliday - Страница 12

SARA BIT DOWN HARD on her lower lip when she saw the sign: Come Back to Conrad Again Soon. Lately she’d thought less and less about leaving Conrad and more and more about staying.

In fact, just last week she’d found a small furnished house for rent within walking distance of the diner. In a few weeks she would have had enough money saved to place a rent deposit on the house. Her nightly prayers had all been the same: the search for them would end and she and Ben could stop running and live a normal life.

But answered prayers were scarce in Sara’s life.

She should have gotten used to that by now.

“Don’t look so worried,” Dessie said, glancing over at Sara from behind the wheel of the dusty station wagon now headed for the border. “I know you’ve always considered Mexico your last resort, but aren’t you glad I pushed you into getting your passports?”

Sara nodded, but only halfheartedly.

The thought had already crossed her mind that applying for their passports was probably responsible for the detective finding them again. But there was no point in mentioning that possibility to Dessie and making her feel guilty about it. What was done was done.

Still, Mexico had always been Sara’s last resort.

She didn’t like the thought of living in Mexico. And she certainly didn’t like imposing on a stranger to take them in. Even if Dessie’s niece was willing to give her a job at the resort and a place to stay, Sara still didn’t like being put in the position to rely on anyone’s charity.

She’d been a charity case her whole life.

And she’d hated every minute of it.

“Just think of this as a summer vacation,” Dessie chirped with far more enthusiasm than Sara could muster. “As soon as Coulter knows you’re in Mexico, he’ll give up and stop following you, I’m sure of it. By the end of the summer, you and Ben can come back to Conrad and pick up your lives where you left off.”

“I hope you’re right,” Sara said with a sigh.

“Of course I’m right,” Dessie said with confidence.

But Sara wasn’t so sure.

So many questions kept running through her mind. What if Gabe didn’t give up? And what if those high-powered attorneys Dessie had mentioned earlier were able to extradite them from Mexico? Even worse, what if she and Ben remained stuck in Mexico indefinitely, trying to wait Gabe out?

Maybe, Sara decided, she should stopping running. Maybe she should stay in the States and take her chances in court. Fight for her rights. Prove to Gabe Coulter that she didn’t intend to run from him for the rest of her life.

Her better judgment told her to turn around.

But before Sara could relay that message to Dessie, the high-pitched scream of a siren jerked Sara’s head around.

“Why, that’s Howard Dillard!” came Dessie’s surprised cry when she looked in her rearview mirror.

Sara kept staring at the flashing blue light. “What do you think he wants?”

“I can’t imagine,” Dessie said. “But there’s a rest area up ahead. We’d better pull over and find out.”

Dessie pulled into the rest area a few minutes later, the patrol car right behind her. By the time the station wagon rolled to a stop, Ben had his seat belt unbuckled and was already climbing out of the booster seat he hated. Standing up in the backseat, he waved out the back window when two men got out of the cruiser and walked in their direction.

“It’s Uncle Gabe!” Ben yelled, and bolted from the car.

“Ben!” Sara yelled.

She jumped out of the car after him.

But Sara froze when she saw Gabe bend down to scoop Ben up. Sara wasn’t sure what worried her most—Ben looking so happy, or Sheriff Dillard looking so perturbed.

When they got close enough for her to snatch Ben away from Gabe, Sara wasted no time reaching for her son. Her gaze locked briefly with Gabe’s, but he handed Ben over without an argument.

Dessie, on the other hand, didn’t waste any time stepping in front of Sara. “What’s going on, Howard?” she demanded, looking Gabe up and down. “And what’s he doing out of jail?”

“Now, Dessie,” Dillard said, “let’s all calm down and take a seat.” He pointed to a shaded picnic table a few yards away. “Nothing good ever comes from a hasty decision. Before Sara crosses the border, I want her to know she has another option.”

“What other option?” Dessie was quick to ask.

Dillard nodded toward the picnic table again. “Like I said, Dessie, let’s all sit down like reasonable adults and I’ll tell you.”

The sheriff headed for the picnic table.

So did Gabe and Dessie.

Sara first walked to the station wagon with Ben to retrieve his toy. She pointed to a water fountain several yards from the picnic table—far enough away that Ben couldn’t overhear the conversation.

“Why don’t you take Thunder over to that water fountain so you can both get a cool drink?” Sara told him, knowing her son would play in the water for as long as she would let him.

Ben made a beeline for the fountain.

And Sara headed for the picnic table. Ben’s instant bond with his uncle had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. But she’d already made the decision that she was not going to Mexico.

She was going to stop running and fight for her son.

Mexico might come later.

If she lost custody in court.

GABE SAT UP a little straighter when Sara approached the picnic table. She refused to take a seat herself; instead she stood at the end of the table proud and erect.

He kept his word and waited for the sheriff to do the talking, but he couldn’t keep his gaze from wandering where it shouldn’t. She was gorgeous; no doubt about that. Curvy in all the right places. A face that would make angels in heaven weep with pure envy.

But she also had a feisty streak.

He’d seen that back at the jail.

And the way she scowled now made Gabe doubt that anything the sheriff could say was going to change her mind.

“What we have here,” Sheriff Dillard said, “are two people concerned about Ben’s welfare.” He looked at Sara, then at Gabe. “Can we all at least agree with that statement?”

“No,” she said, staring straight at Gabe. “I don’t call threatening to take a child away from his mother being concerned about Ben’s welfare.”

Gabe felt the heat creep up the back of his neck.

He averted his eyes to his Stetson lying on the table in front of him. A random thought crossed his mind: the good guys always wore white hats. His hat was white. And he was trying to be the good guy in this situation.

But was he really the good guy?

Part of what Sara said was true. He hadn’t only been thinking about what was best for Ben. Gabe had been thinking about what he wanted. And he’d been determined to keep the promise he’d made to his brother.

“Let’s forget about court and custody battles, and move on to the solution I think I’ve found to this problem,” Sheriff Dillard said. “Gabe, you told me earlier that Ben would be the fourth generation of Coulters to run the Crested-C Ranch. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“But,” Dillard said, “you also told me that the main reason you want Ben to go to Colorado is because the ranch isn’t going to mean anything to Ben unless he grows up on the land. Is that also correct?”

“Yes,” Gabe said, and he looked straight at Sara. “And I want to apologize to you, Sara, for not making myself clear back at the jail when I—”

“Move on,” she snapped.

Women! Gabe thought. He’d sooner deal with a thousand-pound grizzly.

“Okay, Sara, let’s move on,” Sheriff Dillard agreed. “Ben’s best interest will always be your first concern. Right?”

She nodded curtly.

“And that brings us to the other option I want both of you to consider,” Dillard said. “The only logical way to settle this problem is with a compromise. Let Ben go to Colorado with Gabe and live on his own land, Sara. But you go with them.”

She laughed.

That old bastard tricked me! was Gabe’s first thought.

There hadn’t been a woman on the Crested-C since his mother died. And if he brought a woman home now there would definitely be hell to pay. Smitty, the old grouch, had run off every cleaning lady Gabe had tried to bring in over the past fifteen years.

And what about his ranch hands? Many of them had only known the Crested-C as an all-man’s world and that’s the way they liked it. No need for social graces. No need to wipe your feet, or watch your language. Gabe would have a damn mutiny on his hands if he brought a woman home.

“If that’s your idea of an option,” she said, “forget it. I’m not interested.”

Gabe breathed a sigh of relief.

Dillard banged his fist hard on the table.

Sara jumped.

So did Gabe.

“I’m not talking about what interests either of you!” Dillard boomed. “I’m talking about Ben’s best interest. The boy needs a family, and he has one. He has a mother and he has an uncle. Instead of playing hide-and-seek all over the state of Texas, or battling it out in court, the two of you need to put your selfish issues aside and do what’s best for Ben.”

Gabe squirmed. He’d boasted earlier that he’d do whatever it took for Ben to live on the Crested-C. That a man was only as good as his word. That his word had never been half-assed.

Dillard was putting those assertions to the test.

And Gabe knew it.

Now it was time to stand up and be the man he claimed to be. Or, go ahead and admit his word was only half-assed, just as Dillard had originally accused.

He chanced another glance in Sara’s direction.

She was staring right at him.

Gabe quickly looked away.

He didn’t like her accusing glare—or what she’d said about taking Ben away from his mother not being in Ben’s best interest. It brought back memories Gabe thought he’d buried long ago.

Unsettling memories.

Memories that cut open wounds that even time could never heal completely.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE I’m saying this, but for once I have to agree with Howard,” Dessie said. “I’m sorry, Sara, but this could be a new beginning for you and for Ben. You could finally be a full-time mother. And Ben could grow up in one place, put down roots.”

Sara couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Dessie was supposed to be her ally.

“You can’t be serious!” Sara gasped.

“I am,” Dessie said. “If you and Gabe battle it out in court, Ben loses. Either he loses his heritage or he loses his mother. I say Ben deserves both.”

Sara put her hands on her hips. “And you really expect me to take Ben to Colorado to live with a total stranger?”

“I’m not a total stranger. I’m Ben’s uncle.”

Sara shot him a mean look. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

“I realize that,” he said. “But according to Sheriff Dillard, you were on your way to Mexico to live with a total stranger. I’m not sure I see the difference.”

Sara’s cheeks flushed crimson at the truth.

“He’s right, Sara,” Dessie said. “At least he’s Ben’s uncle.”

How dare my friends take sides with him?

But shocked didn’t cover her reaction when Gabe stood and held his hand out in her direction.

“I’m willing if you are, Sara,” he said. “Come to Colorado with me and live on the ranch. For Ben’s sake.”

For Ben’s sake.

Everyone was talking about what was best for Ben. But she was being backed into a corner.

And Sara didn’t like it!

“For Ben’s sake,” Sara said, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice, “I’m going to pretend we never had this conversation.”

She refused to shake Gabe’s hand.

And she was trying so very hard not to cry. Her friends siding against her threatened to pop the cork on a lifetime of bottled-up hurt. Instead of wallowing, Sara let her anger loose.

“Shame on all of you. How dare any of you act like you know better than I do what’s best for Ben.” She jammed a finger against her chest. “I happen to be a victim of other people deciding what was in my best interest. And do you know how that turned out? By the time I was eighteen I’d lived in four different foster homes. The houses were all nice enough. And the foster families were all pillars of the community. But it didn’t make one bit of difference! I was always the outcast. And that’s the same way Ben and I would be treated if we moved to Colorado to live on a ranch with his dead father’s brother.”

Sheriff Dillard started to say something, but Sara silenced him with one look.

“And don’t anyone try to tell me that isn’t true,” she said. “I would always be the unmarried woman living with some man. Respectable women in town would whisper about me behind their hands. And Ben would get in fights on the playground over the ugly things other kids said about his mother. I lived that life. And I won’t have Ben living it, too. So don’t any of you dare try to tell me what’s best for my son again.”

“Oh, Sara, honey,” Dessie said, reaching for Sara’s hand.

Sara jerked her hand away.

She pushed her hair carefully back into place.

Once she’d regained her composure, Sara turned to Dessie and said, “I’m going to get Ben now. We’ll be waiting for you in the station wagon.”

Then she looked straight at Gabe. “If you want to file custody papers, Ben and I won’t be hard to find this time. I’m tired of running from you. We’re staying in Conrad.”

Sara expected a comeback, but he didn’t say a word.

He just kept standing there, a blank look on his face.

Exasperated, Sara stomped off.

“MARRY ME,” Gabe blurted.

The minute he said it, he knew it was the right thing to do. He’d asked Billy once what he intended to do if he did find the boy and his mother.

“I’m going to do the same thing you would do if you were in this situation,” Billy had said. “I’m going to ask her to marry me. And if she accepts, I’m going to bring her home and provide the best life I can for her and my son.”

Gabe had been proud of Billy’s answer.

But it had taken Sara’s outburst before Gabe realized she was right on target about how she and Ben would be received in his small hometown if she lived at his ranch, no commitment between them. That’s when Gabe had felt his brother’s hand on his back, pushing him to finish what Billy couldn’t.

Sara’s spine was stiff, her fists still clenched in anger over a lifetime of other people pushing her around. He had a file filled with information on the lousy cards life had dealt her: no father in the picture; a mother arrested more than once for drugs and prostitution. The file was filled with details of a dozen different reasons why Sara Watson should have turned out to be the type of person Gabe assumed she was before he met her.

But they were words on paper, nothing more.

And Gabe was ashamed of himself.

He was ashamed for assuming she would hand over her son for money. And he was ashamed for making her such a thoughtless offer in the first place.

She slowly turned around. “Marry you? That’s absurd and you know it.”

“Maybe,” Gabe agreed. “I’m sure you aren’t interested in having a husband any more than I’m interested in having a wife. But this is about Ben. We’d be an official family if we married and made it legal. No whispers behind your back. No fights on the playground. No reason to be treated like outcasts.”

Gabe couldn’t quite decipher the expression on her face. Outright rage that he’d suggested marriage? Or sheer amusement over his unexpected proposal? Maybe a little of both.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” she demanded. “A few hours ago you were threatening to take me to court. And now you’re going to insult me by suggesting we should get married and become an official family?”

Gabe knew he had one chance to say the right thing.

So he told the truth.

“I was wrong. I convinced myself Ben would be better off living on the ranch with me. That I could give him everything you couldn’t. But I’d forgotten the nights Billy cried himself to sleep after our parents died because he missed our mother. I’d never do that to Ben. I realize that now.”

SARA BLINKED BACK tears.

He looked so sad standing there, clutching the brim of his Stetson, the look on his face so solemn. This was her first glimpse of who this man was. Maybe he wasn’t the enemy after all.

They were each aware of the sacrifice they’d have to make.

Both knew all of the reasons it wouldn’t work.

Still, Sara was forced to face some cold, hard facts about her own contribution to her son’s future. She had no home to give Ben. No promise of one day running his own ranch. And she certainly didn’t have a proud family heritage dating back three generations to pass down to her son.

In truth, it was a daily struggle to make ends meet. Living paycheck to paycheck, always having more month than money and struggling to provide the bare necessities were the only things she’d probably ever be able to offer Ben on her own.

What would Ben choose if he were old enough to make the decision himself? Would Ben choose a ranch and his heritage? Or would he choose a mother’s unconditional love? Most likely, Ben would choose both.

She would lay down her life for her son, without a second thought.

In comparison, marrying her son’s uncle seemed like an easy choice—as long as she didn’t stop to think about the consequences. Ben had already adopted Gabe as his immediate hero. She knew it was selfish, but she couldn’t keep from wondering where that would ultimately leave her if she did accept Gabe’s proposal for Ben’s sake.

In the background, Sara suspected.

Married to a man in name only.

And possibly losing all influence over her son.

Was she really willing to risk Ben growing up with a bunch of rowdy cowboys who flirted with danger for sport? Could she really chance Ben following in Billy’s footsteps and embracing the dangerous life of a rodeo star?

Yet in all fairness, Sara knew there were other dangers just as serious she’d have to steer Ben away from regardless of where he grew up. Ben falling in with the wrong crowd for one thing—a real threat for any boy who had no strong male influence in his life—and there would be enormous peer pressure as Ben grew older. Would she be able to keep Ben pointed in the right direction if her economic status forced them to live in less than desirable circumstances? Sara knew all too well that poverty often walked hand in hand with drugs and crime.

“Six months,” Gabe said. “That’s all I’m asking. Give us six months to see if we can live together on the ranch as a family. If things aren’t working out at the end of that time, I’ll have the marriage annulled. You and Ben can leave and you have my word I’ll never bother you again.”

Still, Sara remained speechless.

She felt addled, in a daze, completely unable to function—until a small tug on the hem of her uniform snapped her out of it. Ben stood behind her, Thunder under his arm, and sopping wet from head-to-toe.

“Can we, Mom, please?” he begged. “Can we go live on Uncle Gabe’s ranch and be a family just like Uncle Gabe said?”

Sara knelt and cupped his sweet, innocent face in both of her hands. “I’m sorry, Ben,” she tried to explain, “becoming a family isn’t that simple.”

“But why, Mom?”

It was her son’s favorite question.

And this time, Sara didn’t have an answer.