Читать книгу Her Lone Cowboy - Patricia Forsythe, Patricia Forsythe - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

“SAM, THIS IS getting really old.” Laney picked up her son and stood him in the middle of the kitchen table so she could talk to him at eye level. As soon as they had arrived home, she had sent him to sit in the naughty chair while she picked up the items she’d left on the back patio and put them away. Then she had scrubbed the kitchen sink while she tried to think of what to tell him.

It had been physically exhausting, but emotionally easier when Sam was tiny. She had made all the decisions for the two of them. Now that Sam was getting older, Laney was constantly second-guessing herself. Two things she did know: she had to keep him safe whether he wanted that or not, and she had to keep him off Caleb Ransom’s property.

Now she was attempting to make that clear. Whenever he tried to avoid her gaze, she turned his face back to hers and placed her hands firmly on his shoulders, holding him in place. “You are not to leave this house without my permission. Do you understand that?”

He looked at her for a second and then nodded.

“You can’t go over to Mr. Ransom’s house unless I’m with you. He has...things to do and he doesn’t need you underfoot.”

“You sure?” Sam asked. “He hurt his leg so maybe he needs help with...”

“No, he doesn’t want or need us there.”

“But I like Mr. Ramsun and I love Bertie,” Sam answered in an aggrieved tone. He looked up at her, his big brown eyes swimming with tears. “He loves me, too.”

Laney dropped her head forward and closed her eyes as she took a breath. This was like trying to have a conversation with a grasshopper who kept bouncing from one place to another.

“You can’t go over there without permission. You can’t go see Bertie—”

“But—”

“You can’t or you’ll be in big trouble with me.” Her firm tone brooked no disobedience. “Sam, there are other reasons, too.”

She paused, watching emotions play across his face with heartsick dismay. She couldn’t let him spend his young years the way she had, never knowing where she would be or what would be happening that day or the next, who she would be with...

She frowned, trying to think of a way to make him understand without scaring him.

Taking a deep breath she said, “Sam, as your mother, I’m the one who is supposed to take care of you, so you have to do what I say.”

His bottom lip quivered. “But why?”

She paused, deciding he wasn’t being defiant, merely curious. “Because little boys have to have someone to take care of them, make sure they’re safe. That’s my job, so I have to know where you are all the time.”

He hung his head, his gaze on the tabletop, and she pondered whether to tell him that other people would have to take care of him if she couldn’t, but then decided against it. Her mind filled with memories of being in the backseats of strange cars, all of her worldly possessions packed into a big, black trash bag, her favorite stuffed animal clutched to her chest as she stared big-eyed at the back of the driver’s head, wondering who this person was and where she was being taken this time.

No, Laney decided. She would keep that information to herself. No point in scaring him unnecessarily.

“You have to do what I say,” she repeated. “Now it’s time for you to say, ‘Yes, Mommy.’”

“Yes, Mommy,” Sam responded, but she didn’t know if he would obey or not.

“Thank you.” She stared at him for a few seconds as she tried to decide if there was anything more she needed to say, something more convincing, compelling. Something he wouldn’t “forget.” Deciding that there probably wasn’t, she lifted him and set him on the floor. “Now, you go stay in your room until dinner is ready and you’d better be there when I call you.”

Sam shuffled off to his room. She gazed after him, hoping and praying she’d made him understand.

* * *

THE SOUND OF gravel popping beneath tires had Laney looking out the front window. She watched as her older brother, Ethan, stopped his truck and gave a wave when he saw her.

The truck doors sprang open and his twin sons, Shane and Logan, jumped out. The twins were happy, outgoing boys with dark hair that sprung out in wild curls unless it was kept cut very short, as it was now. Having recently begun to lose their baby teeth, they each greeted their aunt with gap-toothed grins. They were two years older than Sam, but the three of them got along well.

She called to Sam that his cousins were there and went outside to say hello. So much for making Sam stay in his room until dinnertime, she thought. But some fun, positive interaction with his uncle and his cousins might take his mind off Caleb and Bertie—at least for a while.

Ethan reached into the back of his truck and removed a small bicycle, which he set on the ground. He rolled it forward and propped it against a porch post so that it was the first thing Sam saw when he came barreling through the front door.

Ethan then went back to the truck and removed two more, slightly larger, bicycles.

Sam’s eyes widened as he looked at the bicycles and then at his two grinning cousins.

“Sam,” Ethan said, “it’s time for you to learn how to ride a bike. We thought you might like this one the boys have outgrown.”

“Yeah!” Sam shrieked. “Thanks, Uncle Ethan!” He raced down the steps as Laney gave her brother a worried look.

“Don’t you think he’s too young, Ethan?”

“No, I don’t. He’s got the coordination already. It’ll take a little practice. I’ll bet he figures it out in no time.”

“Oh, great,” she muttered as Logan and Shane showed Sam how to get on his new bike. “Now he’ll be able to move even faster.”

Ethan barely seemed to hear her as he joined the three boys. Giving Sam a few basic instructions, he then held the back of the bicycle while Sam took his first wobbly turn around the yard. Laney watched from the porch steps.

To Laney’s amazement and, admittedly, pride, Sam caught on quickly, just as Ethan had predicted. Within half an hour he could go a short distance by himself before the bike began to wobble and he had to stop and regroup. Shane and Logan rode their bikes around in circles, demonstrating their skill to their younger cousin. Sam watched them for a few moments, stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and tried harder.

When he felt that Sam was well on his way, Ethan joined Laney on the porch.

“Told ya,” he said smugly.

Laney punched him on the arm. “I hate to admit you’re right.”

Ethan grinned. “He’s always had good balance. That’s why he walked so early. He’s an active kid. He needs something to keep him busy.”

Chin lifted and lips pinched together, Laney said, “I keep him busy.”

Ethan bumped her with his shoulder. “Oh, don’t get defensive. I’m not criticizing your parenting, but in town, he had other kids to play with. Jenny and the boys and I were only three blocks from your apartment. Our kids played together every day. It’s different out here.” He glanced at her. “But moving here was the right thing for you to do.”

“Still, you’ve got a point. He needs something to do besides make a nuisance of himself with the neighbor.”

“Who, Caleb Ransom?”

With a nod she told him about the encounters they’d had with their reclusive neighbor.

“I’m trying to keep Sam away from his place, but my son is enthralled with the animals, especially the dog, so it’s not easy.” Her shoulders slumped. “And I don’t think Ransom likes people very much.”

“Have you considered getting Sam his own dog?”

“Ethan, he’s four. He’s too young to be responsible for an animal. He can’t even tie his own shoes yet.”

“It would be a companion for him.”

“So the two of them can run off together? So Sam can take his new dog over to make friends with Ransom’s dog, Bertie? That’s all I need.” She gave him a helpless look. “Ransom...Ransom doesn’t like people very much, so I can’t imagine he’d want my son popping in to visit with his new puppy.”

Ethan frowned. “There’s probably more to it than him disliking people, although I understand he pretty much keeps to himself.”

She turned to look at her brother fully. “Do you know him?”

“Not really. When he first came here, he was in the office to pay the property taxes and find out the exact location of the property lines on his place. I got the impression he wanted to know what his boundaries are to keep people out—although he didn’t actually say that.”

“What did he say?”

“Not a lot, as I recall,” Ethan admitted. “Haven’t seen much of him since.” Ethan worked in the county assessor’s office, but was really a jack-of-all-trades for the county, handling many tasks. “The only person who knows him is Don Parkey, the vet. He takes care of Ransom’s animals and hauls those broken-down drug horses out there.”

Laney stared at him. “Drug horses?”

“People find them all the time out in the desert, used, abused and abandoned by drug smugglers. They take them to Don, who patches them up the best he can and then takes them to Ransom’s place to recover. The county pays him a small fee to take them in and try to get them rehabilitated.”

Laney frowned. “I noticed there were some sad-looking horses in his pasture. One of them has a brand-new filly.” She was pleased that she’d remembered the correct gender.

“Maybe he likes people okay, but he likes animals better. He seems like the kind of guy who takes care of things, tries to fix them. I guess once the horses are rehabilitated, they’ll be sold to people who want riding horses. I doubt they’d be any good as cutting horses.”

Maybe what Ethan said about her neighbor being a fixer-upper was true, Laney thought. After all, the old Camacho place, which everyone called the CR Ranch, had been pretty run-down when he’d bought it and she could see evidence of the repairs he’d made. Now she was learning that he was taking in stray, abused horses. Given the state of his old truck, she was certain he wasn’t receiving much compensation from the county for their care. That kind of thing simply wasn’t in the budget.

What puzzled her was that, in her mind, none of this squared with his wish to be left alone.

“He was a soldier, you know,” Ethan continued. “Injured in Afghanistan. Don told me that’s why he limps like he does. I guess it was pretty bad.” He gave her the big-brother look. “Maybe you could be a little more understanding.”

“I’ve done my part,” she insisted, then told Ethan about their first meeting and their second.

“Hmm, that should soften him up. Nobody makes a chocolate cake as good as you do.”

She smirked at him. “Thank you. And before you ask, there’s none left. I gave Ransom the whole cake.”

“Aaagh!” Ethan reached back and pretended to be pulling a knife from his back. She giggled.

Ethan stopped his silly pantomiming and gave her a close look, his dark eyes examining her.

“What?” she asked.

“Sam’s four years old.”

“I know how old my son is.”

“So when do you think you’ll start dating again?”

Her mouth dropped open. “Where did that question come from? We were talking about Ransom and... You’re not thinking I’d be interested in Caleb Ransom, are you?”

“Stranger things have happened.”

Laney thought about her encounters with him. “I don’t think so.”

“Give it some consideration.”

Laney answered with a swift glance of annoyance, but Ethan’s steady gaze held hers and she looked away. Color stained her cheeks.

“Not every man is like James Carson,” he said gently.

“What’s James got to do with this?”

“Only that not everyone is like him, selfish and egotistical. Could be that you’re letting your experience with that jerk color your view of Ransom.”

Her mouth dropped open again. “How did this get to be my fault?”

“Maybe he doesn’t know how to act around people anymore, been alone too long. He’s got no one around here. No family or friends.”

“So far, he’s made it clear he doesn’t want friends.”

“Well, Laney, I’d think you’d understand better than anybody that what people say they want and what they really want are two different things,” Ethan pointed out.

“Like James,” Laney whispered, her gaze going automatically to Sam, who had mastered the art of turning his bike without falling off. Her ex-husband had said he’d wanted to be a father and then run off when it was about to happen. She knew she didn’t need to say it out loud. The entire family—and everyone else in Sweetsilver—knew what had happened. She hadn’t realized how it had affected her interaction with every new man she met in even the most casual way.

“Maybe you could cut Ransom some slack, Laney.” Ethan gave her the big-brother look again and she wrinkled her nose at him.

“Dad,” Shane yelled, riding up and turning his bike with a show-off skid on the gravel. “Sam can ride good now. Can we go out on the road?”

“Sure, as long as we’re with you.” Standing, he pulled Laney to her feet.

“You could have asked me if it was all right, you know,” Laney said in annoyance.

“Why? You would’ve simply told them no.”

She gave a disgusted click of her tongue and he laughed, throwing his arm around her shoulders and giving her a sideways hug. When he dropped his arm, Laney hooked hers with his and they walked side by side.

“You’re so smug and irritating,” she said with a long-suffering sigh.

“Part of my big brother charm.”

They walked down her drive and onto the road, watching the boys as they wheeled along. It pleased her to see that Shane and Logan had slowed their pace to accommodate their smaller cousin.

“You’ve been a pretty good big brother,” she admitted. “Considering I was dumped on you when you were only nine.”

“Mom said I had to be nice to you and I figured I could do it for a few days until your mother came back. By the time we realized your mom wasn’t coming back, it was a habit.”

Laney smiled, knowing there was more to the story than that.

She barely remembered her mother who had dropped her on her older sister, Laney’s aunt Vivian, when Laney was only seven. Her life up until then had been chaotic, lacking any kind of routine or stability.

Lauraine Reynolds had promised she’d be back in a few days but she’d never returned. Laney recalled how scared she had been and how Vivian and Frank Crown had welcomed her, saying they’d always wanted a daughter.

And Ethan had been great. He hadn’t seemed to mind her tagging along with him until she made friends of her own.

When the family had learned a few months later that Lauraine had died from some kind of massive infection while working as a card dealer in Las Vegas, Vivian and Frank had adopted Laney. She would be forever grateful. At seven, she hadn’t really understood the finality of death and asked Vivian and Frank if she could keep the name Reynolds in case her mother ever came looking for her.

“You’re not like her, you know,” Ethan said.

“Who?” Laney glanced up at him.

“Your mother. You would never abandon your child or put him at risk, but it’s okay to let him take some reasonable risks.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know about that. He’s only four.”

“What if you let him risk life and limb by coming over to our house tonight? We’ll probably watch a movie and play a wild and crazy game of Candyland.”

Laney laughed and agreed to the plan as they continued their ambling walk down the road.

After a few more steps Ethan cleared his throat. “Laney, there’s something I need to warn you about.”

“Uh-oh.” She looked over, concerned. “What is it?”

“Mom bought a tree.”

Horrified, she stared at him. “No! They actually let her back into the nursery?”

“No, she ordered it online. Dad didn’t know anything about it until he came in and found it growing in a huge pot in the living room.”

“What kind of tree is it?”

“Banana.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Apparently it’s the only kind she hasn’t killed yet. It’s even got tiny little green bananas on it.” He held up his hand, thumb and forefinger a couple of inches apart.

“The poor thing,” Laney said in a mournful tone. “It has no idea what it’s in for.”

“A slow and agonizing death from too much love, overwatering, overfertilizing.”

Laney flung out her hands in a helpless gesture. “I don’t understand how someone who’s so kind and generous can be the angel of death to any plant she comes into contact with.”

“It’s a mystery,” he agreed sadly.

They continued walking as they contemplated the problem. Vivian Reynolds Crown had never successfully grown a garden, a bush, a tree, or so much as a philodendron, but she never gave up trying, and many lush, living things had been sacrificed on the altar of her horticultural ambitions.

“Well,” Laney finally said with a sigh, “at least it will keep her busy and involved for a while.”

“Yeah, and we’ll hear about every drooping leaf and dead stalk.”

Laney slipped her arm through Ethan’s and gave him a squeeze. “It’s the burden we must bear for being her children.”

Ethan gave a miserable nod and they followed their sons up the road.

* * *

WHO WAS THAT GUY? Caleb reined in Cisco behind a stand of paloverde on a rise near the road. Telling himself he was only watching because he was nearby, preparing to move Addie and her filly out of the pasture and move a few cattle in. Besides, he needed to see what was going on because he didn’t want any strangers coming to his place unannounced.

He observed Laney as she walked down the lane behind Sam and two other little boys on bicycles. Her arm was entwined with that of a man whose face he couldn’t quite see.

Caleb’s mouth twitched in annoyance. Laney and the guy looked pretty friendly. It irritated him that he couldn’t see the guy’s face. If someone was around, anywhere near his place, he wanted to know who it was. He didn’t like surprises and he didn’t want unexpected company. He had avoided people since he’d moved to Sweetsilver and he fully intended to keep it that way.

* * *

LANEY DIDN’T KNOW what to do with herself. She had finished getting her turnouts and other gear ready for the coming fire season, worked in her yard, swept the kitchen, and showered and washed her hair, deciding to let it air dry, allowing the dark curly waves to do whatever they wanted. Sometimes she simply didn’t feel like fighting them.

She ate a quiet dinner then wandered around the house, missing Sam. She had a book to read, a suspense novel guaranteed to keep her interested and probably terrified until dawn. Or she could call her best friend, Sarah, to see if she wanted to go into Sierra Vista to see a movie, have a girl’s night out—something they hadn’t done in months.

None of those things appealed, though. She was too restless, too unsettled and, probably thanks to her brother’s words, thinking too much about Caleb Ransom.

He did intrigue her. He was closed off, said he didn’t want company or friends. He was scarred on the outside and doubtless on the inside, too, but because of the defensive wall he’d put up, she would never know the nature of his scars, never know him. For despite all good judgment, she sensed a need in him that drew her.

Laney couldn’t have said why she even cared. He didn’t want her around; not her or her son. He had his own life, his own business, and she had hers.

Thinking about him made her move to her kitchen window, which looked out onto his land. The late-afternoon sun slanted down, casting long shadows across his pasture.

So much of her mind hadn’t been taken up with a man since James Carson—and she hadn’t had a pleasant thought about him in years.

Laney doubted that Caleb was anything like James. No doubt he kept his promises, she thought as she gazed out the window dreamily, and carried through with anything he’d decided to do.

Taking in abused and abandoned horses was proof of his compassion, his abilities as a horse owner and—

His cattle were in her yard!