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

  “Just in case” was the term uttered around Sky Lake in regard to a certain someone. Peyton hadn’t thought she would ever lay eyes on Ryder again, but she knew Shelby and Mitchum, or at least Shelby, had hoped differently. Sad that the woman had waited a decade to see her son only to have to leave the next morning.

  They could have postponed, maybe they should have, at least then they could have been a buffer between Ryder and her. But Shelby fussed over Mitchum’s health ever since the heart attack. He needed these stress-free breaks and facing a son who’d walked out on him probably didn’t rank up there as tranquil. Add to that the recent sale of part of Sky Lake that Mitchum still hadn’t forgiven Peyton and Shelby for and it was probably best he was away at the moment. Not that they had been left with much choice in the matter—it was sell the property or possibly lose the whole ranch—but if just the mere mention of the sale rose Mitchum’s heart rate and blood pressure, she could only imagine what the return of the prodigal son was doing.

  While the selfish side of her didn’t want Ryder hanging around longer than necessary, for Shelby’s sake and even Mel’s, Peyton hoped he would spend some time in Fly Creek.

  Over the years, she’d tried to imagine what it would be like if Mel upped and left at nineteen, breaking all contact. But the pain at just imagining such a scenario brought her to her knees. How Shelby and Mitchum held up all these years she would never know. She, on the other hand, was perfectly fine. Or had been until last night. She’d thought once upon a time that she needed him. But she got over that real quick when the pregnancy test came back positive and she had no alternative.

  Setting the rocker down a little more forcefully than necessary, she told herself to stop going down not-so-happy memory lane. He was old business. A blip on her radar. Just because he was here, looking mighty fine, and kissing even better, didn’t mean she needed to rehash everything.

  The worst was done.

  Ryder was back and now knew about Mel. Not much else needed to be handled between them other than Mel meeting him. And that couldn’t happen until at least Friday night. Until then, she would steer clear, keep busy, and definitely stay away from his tempting, capable lips.

  A gust of wind sent the double screen doors slamming against the side of the lodge and Peyton yelped, clutching her throat in surprise. She didn’t have time to laugh, as the sight of a small tree limb sailing across the parking lot had her hurrying to secure the doors. The storm apparently was hell-bent on doing damage whether Peyton wished it to or not.

  She walked around the front desk, thinking about the two occupied cottages. They had plenty of empty rooms in the main building. Maybe she should offer to move them for safety reasons. Both were nestled in the woods at the shore of the lake and most of the time they were picturesque, wouldn’t-want-to-be-anywhere-else kind of places. But she would hate for anyone to be hurt. She couldn’t recall anything ever happening like it before, but if she’d learned anything in the last twenty-four hours it was not to bet on a sure thing.

  Evaluate and plan. Those were her strengths.

  Peyton dialed the first cottage and the call was picked up on the second ring. She explained her concerns and offered to help them into a suite for the night. They declined. She received a similar response from the honeymooning couple in the second cottage. They were positively thrilled with the weather and Peyton had a sneaking suspicion that no amount of anything was getting the two of them outside that cottage anytime soon. Both had assured her they were fine and found the impending doom of a storm well worth whatever trouble it may or may not cause.

  As she hung up, the desk manager, Molly, came down the main staircase. “I checked all the empty rooms to make sure windows were secure and shutters locked.”

  Peyton smiled. “Thanks. I contacted the cottages offering to move them but both declined.”

  They glanced out the front windows as another gust of wind rattled the panes.

  “It’s going to be a bad one, isn’t it?”

  Peyton nodded. “Are you sure you don’t want to head home?”

  Molly smiled. “Nah. My roommate will be there and I’m sure whatever guy she roped in this week. Plus, I’m behind on my class reading, and I have midterms coming up. Just as well that I stay here and study and get paid. You heading home?”

  Peyton was intimately familiar with needing both money and quiet. She’d worked her way through school as well, in addition to taking care of Mel full-time. “No. I think I’m going to stay close in case of any problems. With Mel gone and this place my responsibility, it’s probably best to stay. I’ll just crash in the keeper’s cottage.”

  “Sounds good. Oh, I meant to tell you someone stopped in earlier asking me to let you know if you needed anything he was at his parents’ and at your disposal.”

  Peyton choked and sputtered as her face heated. Clearly, she was missing some pertinent puzzle piece. “I’m sorry, who said that?”

  “Shelby’s son. Ryder. Shelby left me a note saying he might be by and sure enough he sauntered his mighty fine self in. He asked if I was in charge and I told him no, and he said to let whoever was know he was on the property and available.”

  Ah, the missing piece. “So he didn’t ask for me specifically?”

  Molly shook her head. “No. Do you two know each other?” The question was followed by a very pointed look. Molly was young and therefore didn’t quite know the background that existed between mighty fine self and Peyton. Probably better it stayed that way. At least for now. “I knew him back in high school.”

  A short answer, given in her matter-of-fact voice, seemed to satisfy Molly. Peyton confirmed that the young woman didn’t need anything else and that she had dinner in the kitchen. Waving goodbye, she let herself through the side door to the breezeway connecting to the cottage.

  Wind sent her hair lashing against her temple, leaves tangling around her feet as she searched for the correct key. There was a spare hidden inside the lantern hanging beside the door, but Peyton thumbed through several more keys until she found the correct one. She let herself in, shutting the door behind her, and leaned against the sturdy wood as her mind relished the quiet.

  The wind continued to howl but the effect was muted behind the thick logs that made up the four walls of the house. Peyton loved this place. It was quaint and cozy and situated so that the windows to her left took in everything that Sky Lake had to offer. She understood the reasoning for Shelby and Mitchum moving out, but she wondered if they missed the hominess of it. Their house now was three times the size and lacked that certain characteristic that enveloped you when you crossed through the door.

  A chill settled on Peyton’s skin and she crossed over to the fireplace. Five minutes later, the beginnings of a fire caught, and she could smell the change in the room. Satisfied she wouldn’t freeze, she moved to the windows. The water, leaves, and limbs formed a dance across the road and pastures. Her phone chimed, and she pulled it out of her pocket to see a text message from Shelby.

  At the cabin. Hope everything is well. Wish we could have talked before we left. I didn’t tell him. You should. Hope you’re okay. See ya Friday with our girl. Hugs.

  Peyton fired back a quick text and placed her phone on the windowsill. The truth was everything wasn’t okay. For years she’d pretended it was, but the minute she laid eyes again on Ryder Marks, the curtain had fallen. She should hate him. Despise or feel indifferent, at the very least, and yet all she could think was that if his kissing had improved over the past ten years, surely his other skills had as well.

  No. She wouldn’t be investigating his new and improved skillset. He was here for a brief amount of time and she would ensure that during that time life for him and Mel was smooth. That was the plan. Guide them to getting to know one another. She and Ryder existed as a team for Mel and nothing else. Falling back under Ryder’s spell wasn’t happening. She couldn’t, or rather didn’t, trust him, and letting him back in would only lead to another broken heart. Strai
ghtening her shoulders in resolve, she went to the kitchen and set about finding some dinner.

  Her ringtone finally pulled Peyton away from the two lists in front of her. One regarding Sky Lake and any potential repercussions from the storm. The other, ways to break the news to Mel. The first was infinitely longer than the second.

  “Hello?”

  “Peyton, it’s Dan.”

  She collapsed on the couch. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “Final check-in. All the animals are free to pasture or secured in their stalls. Everything else has been tied down, nailed down, or brought inside. She’s gonna be a fine one.”

  “She? I love how the intense ones always land on the female side with you.”

  He laughed. “That’s because men are simple. In and out. Women come in, turn things upside down, and leave us to pick up pieces. Which we’re happy to do because you gals usually make it worth it in some way.”

  Peyton laughed, but her thoughts instantly strayed to a man who’d caused more havoc in twenty-four hours than any storm she’d ever been through in Fly Creek.

  “So you home safe?”

  “No. I’m actually hunkered down in the cottage. I figured it was better to be on site.”

  “Really?”

  There was an undercurrent in Dan’s question, and Peyton didn’t have to look too closely to figure out what it was.

  “I’m fine, Dan.”

  He sighed. He was such a good, caring man but typical protector to his toes.

  “If you say so. I’m a phone call away. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Night, and stay safe. Those horses are smarter than you think, so don’t go risking your pretty limbs for them.”

  “Worried about my limbs, are you?”

  “Always, dear.”

  They both hung up laughing. Peyton snagged the afghan off the back of the couch and snuggled farther into the arm. She loved Dan, as a sister loved a big brother. He’d been a silent supporter for most of her adult life, and Mel loved him to the moon and back. But never had he produced the hurricane force of emotions that one moment in Ryder’s presence brought forth. She closed her eyes, wondering where on the ranch Hurricane Ryder was and what other damage he would be leaving in his wake.

  …

  Ryder ignored the hail pounding the windows and continued flicking through the photo album on the kitchen island. After his visit to the main lodge and a quick chat with a young woman who looked barely old enough to drive, he’d found himself joining in with the few permanent ranch hands to bunk down animals and open pasture gates. They openly accepted his help, somehow knowing who he was despite him not knowing any of them.

  He’d briefly wondered where Dan Rigby was and if he’d filled them in, but time and hard work overtook rambling thoughts. He hadn’t realized how much he missed ranch life, as it was often hard to separate the good parts of Sky Lake from the ugly parts that had sent him packing.

  His business partner, Alex, was supposed to arrive tomorrow and then they’d begin unofficially surveying the property. He’d hoped to have at least had it out with his father by then—presenting him with the indisputable proof of his worth—but fate in the form of one Peyton Brooks ensured that even the shortest of conversations with his father would be put off until at least Friday and the official meeting even later. However, his number one priority now was to meet his daughter.

  The thought of Melanie was what had him rushing back to his parents’ house and tracking down the photo albums he knew his mother would have. Shelby Marks hadn’t disappointed. He’d been steadily working his way through his daughter’s entire life. Birthday parties, Christmases, Easter egg hunts, all the while vaguely noticing the storm’s increased racket. Every picture brought alternating emotions. Love and pride over the beautiful, spunky girl he’d help create, and pain over being denied an active part of her life. His fingers traced Melanie’s smile.

  What did she know about him? And would she be glad to meet him? He’d imagined a lot of things about his homecoming, but a daughter hadn’t been one of them. How could he be a dad when his own father was a horrible example? His muscles tensed and his heart sped up. Ryder forced himself to take deep breaths and vowed then that Melanie would know she was loved and accepted every second of every day. No child of his would ever grow up without knowing they were supported 100 percent.

  He’d make up his absence if it was the last thing he did.

  A loud crack, followed by a house-rattling vibration, finally tore Ryder away from the mischievous little girl and to the front porch. Rain lashed across, nearly horizontal, and he could see where a tree had been struck and was leaning against another. The other’s trunk was the only thing preventing it from collapsing onto the driveway. He’d take care of it in the morning once the storm passed, but it had him wondering what other problems the storm might be causing across the ranch. He hoped Peyton was home safe.

  Maybe he should head back to the main lodge. It was centrally located and he would be better placed in case anything major happened. Worst case, he could crash at his old home and be within reach of the young woman manning the desk. He still didn’t know who was in charge with his parents gone. He would have liked to double-check they had everything under control. He may have left it all those years ago, but Sky Lake was and always would be his home.

  Chapter Six

  Peyton woke to rain lashing at the windows. Her sleep-deadened senses urged her to close her eyes and burrow back into the warmth of the quilt but some recess of her mind told her to focus. Straining, she fought through the sounds of the storm to hear the crash of glass. Rolling over, she squinted at the bedside clock, which registered 1:08 a.m. A thump had Peyton sitting up and scrambling out of bed. No one should be at the door—maybe something had happened and it was Molly knocking. It definitely wouldn’t be the first time a storm had knocked phone lines out. Stumbling down the stairs, she rubbed her eyes as a key slid into the door.

  Now she was sure it was Molly. No one else would know about the spare key in the lantern.

  Peyton flicked the small lamp on the end table behind the couch just as the front door slammed open on a gust of wind. Standing framed in the doorway was a man, his head bent as he grabbed the large duffle at his feet.

  Definitely not Molly.

  Peyton staggered back toward the kitchen, keeping her eyes trained on the intruder. His head lifted, rain dripping off the sides of his hooded windbreaker. Their gazes clashed across the room. A mixture of horror, disbelief, and anger arcing between them.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” The words ripped from someplace raw deep inside of Peyton. She wasn’t ready to face him yet. Everything from that morning was still exposed and jumbled. Though she was starting to realize she might never be ready.

  Ryder stepped through the door and shut it behind him. He pushed his hood back, revealing that head of jet-black, unruly hair. Her fingers itched to smooth it out only to ruffle it again. She shook her head, even as his eyes raked her from head to toe.

  “I was just about to ask you the same damn question.”

  …

  Ryder was in no mood to play twenty questions with Peyton. She was the last person he needed to see after this morning and the subsequent trip he took through his daughter’s years in pictures. But despite the pain and regret pulsing through his veins, there was also the spark. The one that had ignited the minute he saw her in the bar and had only intensified during their brief kiss last night. Now she stood in front of him, sleep ruffled and looking deliciously stunned, and he couldn’t help but remember how her body molded to his. She wore nothing but a short flannel nightgown, her shapely legs peeking out from the hem, and it was more distracting than he knew what to do with.

  Funny, in all the years he’d imagined coming back to Sky Lake, she hadn’t entered the picture. He’d pictured his mother in tears, which had proven accurate. His father with crossed arms and stern disapproval. Again nailed that one on the head. Old friends clapping
him on the back wondering where his impulsive adventure had taken him. But never in any of them had he thought of Peyton. It had been self-preservation, really. He’d been a jerk for leaving her so abruptly and then not contacting her at all, but he’d been afraid of two things if he’d caved. One, that she would tell his parents where he was and his mother would find him and demand to fix whatever had sent him running. And two, that she would beg him to return and he wouldn’t have the power to say no.

  He’d loved her. Well, as much as a nineteen-year-old could, but he hadn’t seen her as his forever. Honestly, he hadn’t seen anything as his forever, which was part of what propelled him to leave. But in all his haste and new plans, he hadn’t counted on leaving Peyton affecting him like it did. A part of her had always been with him and now, looking at her, he wondered how on earth he’d ever walked away from her. He’d been an idiot.

  He unzipped his jacket and pulled it off, sending droplets of water to the oak floor. Peyton stood rooted to the spot, her eyes following him.

  “Are you going to answer my question?” He hung his coat on one of the hooks by the door.

  She crossed her arms. The movement stretched flannel across a very ample chest. Peyton had been wonderfully built before, but by God, she was totally a woman now and something about plaid material encasing her feminine body had him shifting uncomfortably.

  She jutted out her chin. “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing here?”

  Ryder sighed. He was soaked and tired. Emotionally, he was a piece of wood after it came out of a chipper, and he really didn’t have the strength or leash on his temper to play word games with Peyton tonight.

  “I was worried about the storm. A tree came down at my parents’, and I thought whoever was running this place might need some help. After checking in with the front desk, I figured it would be better if I crashed here. So, now, maybe you could tell me why you’re here. In my old house at”—he looked at his watch—“one in the morning.” He took a step toward the kitchen, wondering if there was anything to eat. Peyton scurried around the island. He froze.