The Cowboy's Homecoming Surprise (Fly Creek) Read online

  “Hey, Becky Jane, how are you?”

  “Fine. Just wanted to check up on a rumor I heard.”

  Warning bells sounded, and Peyton stepped closer to the petite woman. Their heights were near identical and they had both found themselves the butt of more short jokes than any two woman should have to put up with. Cowboys were not traditionally known for their humor.

  “What rumor?”

  “About Ryder.”

  Well, crud. That could encompass any number of things. The one thing she did know about the esteemed vet was that she didn’t beat around the bush. She definitely lived up to her fiery red-haired persona.

  “Could you be more specific?”

  “That Sky Lake is going to change, that he’s swooping in and then out. That’s what his company is known for. I care for a lot of reasons, but most of all my concern is selfish and purely economical. Sky Lake brings in half my business. If that is going to change, I need to know so I can plan accordingly.”

  Ahh, another thing they apparently shared. “I appreciate you being matter-of-fact and I’ll return the favor. Yes, Ryder is making some changes. Improvements on the property around the lake in the hopes of increasing the number of visitors and guests we have. If anything, I would say you might find yourself more overworked rather than the opposite.”

  Relief traveled across Becky Jane’s peaches-and-cream complexion. “Thank you for the reassurance. And if he leaves, will that affect anything?”

  Peyton started to say there was no way Ryder would leave again, but the words literally would not be spoken. Because that was her biggest fear. His father’s treatment of him sent him running all those years ago and he hadn’t trusted anyone. What if Mitchum continued with the ice-cold silent treatment? Would she and Mel be enough to keep him here in Fly Creek?

  “Even if he goes, Sky Lake will remain.”

  Becky Jane stuck out her hand and Peyton shook it. “Thank you.” And just like that, the redhead spun on her boot heel and was lost in the Sunday morning crowd.

  …

  Ryder kept one eye on Mel as she wove through the pumpkins, searching for three in the right size. The other kept glancing back to see what Peyton was doing with the redhead. He’d seen the other woman on the ranch several times over the past weeks and learned she was one heck of a vet who had garnered quite a following among the permanent ranch hands. They trusted her with the cattle and that was high praise from any cowboy or cowgirl.

  It was most likely their conversation had to do with the ranch and yet from the lines of Peyton’s body he got the impressions things might be a tad more personal.

  “Hey, Daddy, I found one.”

  The tones of Mel’s voice washed over him, and he soaked up every ounce of warmth having his daughter call him that infused. They were feeling their way along well, and now that he and Peyton had mended enough of their past to possibly contemplate a future, he couldn’t help but think everything he might ever want was within grasp.

  He hefted the pumpkin Mel pointed to. “Nice choice.” She smiled and took off looking for another.

  “Want me to take that for you?”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “I got it. I see she has your perfectionist gene.”

  Peyton shrugged. “Not necessarily a bad trait to possess.”

  Something in her tone had him examining her more closely. “Everything okay?”

  “Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  Ryder knew enough of Peyton to be leery of her simple straightforward answers. Before he could question her, Mel shouted about another find.

  “I’ll take this one.” Peyton brushed by him and shivered, shooting a coy glance over her shoulder. Relief swept across Ryder. She may have something on her mind, but he was confident it had nothing to do with them. Or the potential of a “them.”

  After the last pumpkin had been acquired, they were loading them in the back of his truck when Emily came scurrying across the street.

  “Hey, you guys. I was wondering if I could use one of yours arms. Adam has restricted me on lifting anything above my head, and I need some help in the store.”

  Ryder let the alluded pregnancy reference slide right off, leaving nothing in its wake. He was focused on the now and the future. He and Peyton and Mel were finding a way to be a family. That was all he could ask for.

  “I’ll do it,” Peyton said. She brushed a quick kiss on his cheek. “Why don’t you take Mel back and get these pumpkins started, and I’ll hitch a ride with Emily later.”

  Disappointment filtered into his chest. He’d hoped to spend the whole day as a family. To find out the little things that ticked between the Brooks women and make some memories.

  “If you’re sure.”

  He and Mel waved as they pulled away from the curve.

  “Did something happen with Mom?”

  Peyton had warned him about his daughter’s intuitiveness, but for once he’d wanted her to be wrong. Because if Mel thought something was off, then he couldn’t just brush his gut feeling away.

  “No. Not that I know of. Now where should we start scooping out these guts?”

  …

  Peyton placed the last of the dishes into the dishwasher racks and shut the door. Turning it on, she wiped her hand on a dishrag and looked around the kitchen for anything else to do. She was stalling. Obvious probably to Ryder, too, who waited for her in the living room with some photo albums Mel had given him before she went to bed to look through.

  This moment, this night, it was a dream come true and nothing frightened her more. Becky Jane had sent a little ripple of doubt into her almost full reformed heart. What if he did leave? What if that was how his company worked? What if the past still controlled his future?

  “I’m pretty sure there isn’t a dirty surface left. Come on in here with me.”

  Peyton smiled and switched off the light, passing under the archway into the living room. Ryder sat on her sofa, two glasses of wine on the coffee table. She narrowed her gaze. “Where did you get that?”

  “When I’m courting a young woman, I come prepared.”

  Peyton laughed and joined him on the couch. “I hope it tastes better than your attempt at hard cider all those years ago.”

  He poked her in the ribs. “Hey, give a man credit for trying.”

  She accepted the glass and took a sip. She closed her eyes as the sweet peach fizz woke up her taste buds. “How did you know?”

  He shrugged. “A man has to have his secrets.”

  This time Peyton poked him. “It had to be Emily. She’s the only one who knows this is my favorite.”

  Ryder took the glass from her hand and put it back on the table. He traced her cheek and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ears.

  “Do you have to know everything? The facts, the reasons. Don’t you ever want to just see? Experience?”

  He leaned forward and just before their lips touched, she whispered, “I’m scared.”

  “Me, too. But I’m even more scared of walking away again. Of letting our second chance, this time as a family, be wasted because of fear.”

  She rested her head on his shoulder. “I want to trust you. Trust in this. Trust that you won’t break my heart again. That no one will get hurt. That you won’t leave us again.”

  Ryder kissed the top of her head and pulled her closer. “I’m not that man anymore. My pride is no longer dependent on my father’s love. Pride and selfishness are no longer driving me. I’m here. Now in the present and looking toward the future. I won’t hurt you or Mel, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  She raised her mouth to his, and his lips met hers hungrily. Nips and moans echoed through the room as they each struggled to get closer, to feed off each other’s warmth. Ryder’s lips traveled down her throat and he kissed his way across her collarbone, leaving her skin burning to be next to his. She ran her hand down his back and tugged his shirt free, sliding under the hem and placing her palm onto his hard, smooth back. Muscles bunched under fi
ngertips and he hauled her into his lap resuming his exploration of her chest with his lips.

  This man was hers for the taking. They could have the family she had dreamed about in the early years if she was willing to move ahead without a plan. Without knowing the end result.

  There was only one way to find out.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “So what do you want to do?” Ryder really should have figured out a plan before he arranged this alone time with Mel, but planning was Peyton’s department.

  Mel shrugged her shoulders. “Whatever you want.”

  That was a dangerous statement. The last time he’d spent any time with Mel she’d gotten thrown from a horse, and he and Peyton had dissolved their daughter into a puddle of tears.

  They could a hike a trail, or maybe he could take her out to the construction site. Or maybe canoeing on the lake.

  A few guests on horseback trotted past them, backs straight and holding onto the reins for dear life. Ryder smiled. They were only here for a short time and many had underestimated what a week at a dude ranch entailed, but they were all up there giving it a shot and not succumbing to the fear. He could follow their lead. Mel wasn’t frightening. She was his daughter and no matter what they did, they would be spending quality time together.

  “We could play hide and seek up on Roaming Trail.”

  Ryder looked down to see Mel beaming from ear to ear. “You mean on horseback?”

  She nodded, bouncing on the tips of her boots. God, he hadn’t played hide and seek on horseback since he was a teenager. He was surprised anyone still did, but then again, he’d played a round with Peyton once that had ended with them on a bed of pine needles. His jaw hardened. Playing it at ten years old was fine and dandy, but he would make sure Mel long gave up the notion before she entered her teens.

  “That sounds like a plan.” As they walked toward his family’s private stable, he reviewed her suggestion and couldn’t come up with anything Peyton might object to. They weren’t roping or racing. Mel would be on her horse and they would be on one of the easiest trails the ranch had. Satisfied with their choice of an outing, Ryder saddled up their horses.

  Ten minutes later, they were walking easily along the tree-lined trail. The sun beat down on them and only a few clouds dotted the otherwise smooth blue sky. Ryder searched for a topic that might interest a ten-year-old. Their interactions had increased over the past week and yet he still knew very little about his daughter. What brought a smile to her face? What was her favorite color? Favorite dessert? Did she have a favorite book or band?

  “Do you want to hide first?” she asked, glancing briefly over her shoulder before focusing back on the trail ahead. He’d let her lead, figuring he could see any danger with her in front rather than her trailing behind. He had confidence both in her ability on a horse—she’d been raised on the ranch after all—and on her knowledge of this trail. Then again, he hadn’t asked her.

  “Mel, you have been on this trail before, right?”

  The look she shot him was pure Peyton. Condescension mixed with a little pity that he’d really thought she wouldn’t be able to handle herself. Good God, if his daughter already possessed that much confidence in herself the world better look out for when she actually had the means to wield it on others.

  He smiled. “Well, since you’re the expert and I’m rusty, why don’t you go first?”

  She returned his smile with a triumphant one of her own. “Count to thirty and no peeking.”

  Before he could acknowledge her, she leaned forward and sent her small mount trotting off the trail. He tensed, afraid she would find herself dumped on the uneven terrain, but he quickly remembered this trail was centered on a huge range. No cliffs nearby or anything else other than woods. He lowered his head and counted.

  Ryder found her among an outcrop of boulders. He actually missed her at first glance. She’d been that still, with complete control over her little gelding, Bug. She whooped when his gaze circled back and caught the sun glinting off the bridle.

  “Took you long enough,” she chided and walked over to him, a grin spilling across her face.

  “Cut your old man some slack. I’m rusty.”

  “Sounds like an excuse, and Mom says excuses are never a reason.”

  Typical Peyton. Never cutting slack. Never realizing that things were not always black and white. Hell, even gray had variations most of the time.

  But he wouldn’t talk bad about Peyton even in a flow of sarcasm. They’d reached some type of holding pattern. Sharing glances full of heat and questions. Small lingering touches, as they circled around the fusing of their past, present, and future.

  “I’ll try to do better.”

  Mel nodded. “Your turn.” She closed her eyes and lowered her head. The hat he’d given her that morning shone bright in the dapple of sun filtering through the trees. He urged his mount around and went in search as Mel evenly increased her count.

  He wove into a strand of trees and placed the horse behind the boughs of a large pine. Crooning softly to his mount, he reminded him that there was a bucket of apples waiting for him if he didn’t give their spot away.

  A crunch of leaves to his right had him tensing. The little stinker had already found him. But a moment later a skunk ambled its way into the clearing. Having been sprayed twice in his life, he knew the best course was to hold still.

  The mane flickered on his mount, but he tightened his thighs and the horse settled, trusting its rider knew what was best. The skunk paused and sniffed and that was when Ryder felt the small vibration.

  He willed the skunk to move on. To get away before Mel came into sight, but the damn thing put its nose back to the leaves and started burrowing.

  “Mel,” he said as loud as he dared. “There’s a skunk, honey. Slow down.”

  But his warning hadn’t been soon enough. Mel burst through a pair of pine trees, startling the skunk, who in turn spun around and sprayed. Mel’s mount recoiled and shot off in the other direction, and in that brief moment, his daughter panicked. Her hands frantically tugged on reins that refused to pull back. He took off after her, and the skunk scurried off as Ryder blew through the stench.

  “Dad, help!”

  Ryder’s vision narrowed, his heart racing faster than the legs of his horse. Nothing prepared him for the moment of terror his daughter had expressed. Nothing prepared him for the feeling of dread if he didn’t reach her and calm her, and her horse, down. He broke through another clearing in time to see Mel’s horse darting right. He cut even harder and intersected her, forcing her mount to slow, but it reared up.

  In a slow-motion moment of his heart exploding in pain, his daughter fell.

  …

  Peyton laughed as the paint ran down the canvas. Emily clucked from behind her. “I’ve told you at least ten times to wipe before applying.”

  Peyton swiped up the rag lying beside the easel and dabbed, trying to absorb as much of her unintended trail of blue as she could. She squinted her eyes at the effect. “I think I’ll put a river there.”

  “Nice artistic choice,” Emily drawled and moved on to the lady in the chair beside Peyton.

  She added some brown, hoping it looked something like a tree trunk. Emily was trying her hand at a free paint class rather than the prearranged, everyone-paint-the-same-picture she’d been offering. Peyton liked order. She could follow directions and execute them. This was chaos. Not unlike her heart and brain and life at the moment.

  What were Mel and Ryder up to? Melanie had asked to spend the day with him instead of painting, and Peyton hadn’t hesitated to say yes. Why? Normally she evaluated all risks and options but the yes had popped out almost on the heels of her daughter’s request.

  Her daughter was forming memories. All three of them were forming them as a family. They were eating together, sharing laughs, trusting. Peyton wondered how long it would continue. Could they be a future unit despite their history?

  “Peyton?”

>   Peyton glanced from Emily back to the canvas and swore. Orange blotches were running down the center. See, chaos. Nothing formed into any picture that made sense to her. Could she rearrange? Find the right path that allowed Mel and Ryder and her to be something that was the right shape, color, and size.

  Shaking her head, she grabbed the rag and attempted to mop up her mess. All she could do right now was follow her gut and her heart. It seemed that both wanted her to take these steps with Ryder. To let a future that apparently she’d always dreamed about take shape.

  For someone like her, that was the biggest leap of faith she could do next to giving her heart.

  Peyton continued on through the class. Emily issuing instructions and Peyton bristling but doing her best to follow. Her friend was an excellent instructor—it was Peyton who didn’t handle being a student very well. Or not being a perfect student. She’d only ever taken one other class from Emily and that was when she’d taught the Girl Scouts. But that picture had been simple, easy strokes. This group of women were apparently expected to be Monet.

  Emily congratulated them all on a job well done and Peyton laughed at the canvas in front of her. As she swirled her brush in the mason jar, the store phone rang, and Emily hurried over to it. Her friend’s face transformed from pleasant businesswoman to concerned, to outright distressed. And when Emily’s gaze pinned Peyton, a punch of dread sucked the breath from her. She dropped the brush and hurried to her friend even before Emily beckoned her.

  Taking the phone, she said, “This is Peyton.”

  “Peyton,” Shelby began. “There’s been an accident.”

  …

  Ryder held onto tiny fingers, rubbing his thumb back and forth, as the ambulance took a turn. Her other hand had been immobilized, as well as her neck and back. Mel’s eyes were closed. The thick black lashes, so like his own, forming crescents on her pale skin.

  Guilt rode him hard. He should have been better prepared. He should have yelled sooner. He should have chased the skunk away. He shouldn’t have taken her to the trail.

  Everything Peyton predicted came true. He wasn’t a parent. A parent would have protected, not harmed, his child.