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

  “Thank you for today.” He kissed her cheek. “But I forgot an appointment I need to get to.”

  Peyton cocked her head, clearly trying to figure out what she was missing. “You’re welcome.”

  “So tomorrow. Maybe we can meet at the lodge for lunch and figure out some stuff for Friday?”

  Peyton nodded.

  She must have watched him make his escape as the itching between his shoulder blades joined the guilt weighting each step. He knew what she’d seen in his evasiveness. Sky Lake was his legacy. Why hadn’t he been upset or shocked? Why hadn’t he asked more questions? Ryder had no doubt Peyton now knew there was a missing puzzle piece and he also knew she wouldn’t rest until she figured it out. Better to attack than play defense. Looked like tomorrow he would find out what Peyton would have done all those years ago if he had confessed to her.

  …

  Ryder waved to a few hands and walked through the main doors of the lodge. Had it really been less than a week since he stepped over that threshold after his long absence? He let himself take in the sight, let the memories flow through and bring a smile to his face. This was his home. His legacy. And now it would be his daughter’s legacy, too. He may have done a lot of things in the past ten years to show his father and, even more himself, the kind of man he was. But deep down it all stemmed from this place. Wanting to ensure Sky Lake lasted for years and generations to come. To make it the same and better simultaneously. To remember its roots but bring it forward to the world they lived in today.

  Awareness broke his trip down memory lane, and sure enough Peyton stood in the doorway of the dining room. He smiled and went over to her. They had seemed to reach a peace with their past. Well, at least she seemed to have, and he was trying very hard to do the same.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No. Why?”

  “You were looking around. Staring, to be more precise.”

  “Relax. All’s well in Peyton’s domain. I was just remembering.”

  “Oh.” She blushed, and he let her believe that he might have been remembering them. Lord knew they had certainly christened quite a few places on this ranch. Although the main hall had been spared. Technically.

  She led him over to the table framed by the window. Strategic planning on her part, no doubt.

  “Nice choice for a table.”

  She glanced out the window and shrugged. “You weren’t the only one remembering.”

  Her words warmed him. Brought the past into the forefront and smudged the blurry lines of their current situation. Not enough to jump feet first into a future but enough to make him remember all the reasons he once loved her, and maybe could love her again.

  They settled, and she poured them each a glass of lemonade. He hadn’t even swallowed when she launched into what he assumed was a well-rehearsed speech.

  “It dawns on me that while you pretty much know what I have been up to over the years, I have no idea about your life other than you might have been cold once or twice.”

  Ahhh, deflect and focus so she could pick apart and try to read him. Good luck with that. “I’m sure my mother shared what I was up to during my time away.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “Really? That’s how you’re going to tackle all this between us. Vague answers. If we can’t settle this, work through it, come up with a game plan, then Friday will not happen. We have one goal together. Mel.”

  He squeezed his thigh under the table and counted to ten. She was right. He needed to do this. Needed to put the past on the table so they could figure out a future. He grabbed the lemonade and took a swig, running his other hand down the leg of his jeans, trying to clear some of the sweat. Her support could mean everything right now. It should have meant everything back then. No, he couldn’t focus on the what-ifs any longer. As Peyton said, they could only control moving forward.

  “I was in Alaska. I became a logger and over the years built a career.” And a business. He couldn’t say the words. “It was hard and lonely, and at times I have no idea why I continued to do it, but I’m here and the man I am today because of it.”

  She searched his face, the harsh, tense lines bracketing her luscious mouth, easing into something resembling pity and concern.

  “Why did you leave?” She’d asked the question to the window. Ever in tune, she understood just as he did that it was so pivotal to where they found themselves today.

  “Because of my dad.”

  Her gaze snapped to his. She opened her mouth, then shut it. Peyton speechless wasn’t something many got to witness.

  “Did he tell you to leave?”

  “Not directly, but he insinuated that Sky Lake would be better off without me.”

  The sucked in breath echoed through the almost empty dining room. She reached across and squeezed his hand.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He reversed the position of their hands. Her belief in what he shared evident by the choice of her questions. The concern emanating from her green eyes bringing home the strength of the regret in making the choice to leave her uninformed all those years ago.

  “I’m not sure now. Back then I think I feared that you would brush it off. That you wouldn’t listen to me, or would tell me to man up or deal with it in your typical take-everything-by-the-horns kind of way. To hear that from you would have crushed me.”

  They stared at one another. She knew as much as he what that choice led to. What road it forced them both to travel.

  “Did you miss this?”

  She’d waved her free hand around the room but something in her tone told him she meant more than just Sky Lake.

  “Every. Damn. Day.”

  They let the sum of his confessions digest as food magically appeared and they dug in. She brought him up to date on her grandmother and some of the older residents. He noticed she avoided mention of her parents and his and gave nothing more than a snippet of what she had been up to.

  “Do you think we can do this?”

  She dropped her fork “Do what?”

  “Move on and focus on Mel.”

  “Yes, I do. If you’re serious about being a part of her life from here on forward, then I will respect and support it. She deserves to know you and what you have become. I think the bigger question is, can you?”

  “I can’t forget what happened. What I lost over the years. What my pride cost me.” He chased a potato around on his plate. “But I want to focus on moving forward.”

  She didn’t argue with him. They’d both said what needed to be said about the past. Maybe one day he would be able to tell her the degree to which his father played a role, but at least she knew now. It had nothing to do with her, or him not loving her, and had everything to do with him needing to prove himself. Peyton reached under the table and set a cedar box in the middle of the white tablecloth.

  “I brought this for you. Maybe it will help in some ways.” She stood and brushed a kiss on his cheek, leaving him staring at the engraved name. Melanie Lee. His daughter shared his middle name.

  Ryder waited until Peyton’s boot heels could no longer be heard. He stared at the surface of the wood while his fingers flexed on the edge of the wooden box. Inside were pieces of his daughter that only a mother would keep. Would find value in. There were ten years that Ryder would never get back. But in handing this to him, she was offering what little help she could.

  He lifted the lid and the top object was worn and frayed with stains and holes littered throughout. He thought it might have been blue at one time but the almost ivory color showed age, but more, he guessed, it showed love.

  …

  Peyton studied the painting as Emily adjusted it to have the spotlight hit at the right angle. Her friend stepped back, and the canvas came to life. The cowboy boot sparkled in the sunlight as it sat in the middle of Clapton field, perspective making it as tall as the aspen trees in the background.

  “I see being pregnant hasn’t affected your creativity.”

&nbs
p; Emily blushed and cradled her non-existent bump. “No, but it has made me restless at night with all the nausea, so I paint until I can’t hold the brush.”

  “I predict this won’t be hanging here long.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. It is definitely different. I was inspired by those huge cowboy boots you see in Cheyenne.”

  Peyton nodded, angling her head and watching the colors shift from vibrant to muted with that slightest adjustment.

  The cowbell clanged and both women turned to see the customer. Peyton inhaled sharply and gripped the edge of her shirt.

  Ryder hesitated, then stepped forward and tipped his hat. “Ladies.” His gaze lingered on her longer than she liked, and Peyton ignored the sweeping intensity. This thing between them flared a bit brighter each time they were together and now, knowing a small portion of what sent him running all those years ago, she found her reasons for staying platonic fraying the ends of a rope that could unravel her whole life.

  “Can I help you find something?” Emily asked, her voice slightly strained. Peyton got it. The three of them had last been in the same room during the dinner. A moment that should have been a happy occasion, but with Peyton and Ryder’s history it had instead imploded.

  He took off his hat and rubbed a palm down his jeans. He glanced between them, a slight blush visible above his beard.

  Unease spread throughout. Why on earth was he here? Surely not for her.

  “I was hoping to pick up some art supplies.”

  “Well, lucky for you, I happen to have a few.” Emily laughed, and Ryder smiled.

  “What’s your poison?”

  “Excuse me?”

  Peyton stepped away and toward the baskets of yarn. Ryder was clearly uneasy over her presence. Their past and present combined to make a Rorschach of a future. Depending on how you viewed it, it could lead to so many things.

  “What is your medium of choice? What supplies?”

  Another glance her way and she couldn’t help but voice a question with her expression.

  “They’re not for me. They’re for…my daughter.”

  The only sound in the store came through the muted glass as the rest of Fly Creek went about their business. The three people inside the store were bouncing glances off one another like an errant ping-pong ball.

  “Umm, excuse me for one minute, Ryder. I forgot about my tea. Upstairs. On the stove. I’ll be right back to help you.”

  Emily all but sprinted past Peyton and up the steps in the back of the store to what used to be her apartment.

  All sorts of emotions swirled through Peyton as she stared at the man she’d once loved. She should be happy. Thrilled. Impressed that he would want to do something like this for Mel. And yet a small bit of jealousy existed and grew with each second. She was here to buy something for Mel. Why should he get to take that over?

  Ryder moistened his lips several times and stepped closer to her. “In the box, the drawings you saved? I thought maybe she would like something. For when she gets home.”

  Peyton nodded. Her throat suddenly so tight that even swallowing seemed impossible. He was vulnerable at the moment. Unsure even though it was clear he wanted to do something. Hadn’t that been why she gave him the box? To let him have a small glimpse of Mel. Only a small part of her didn’t want to share. Didn’t like that Mel might have one more person to squeeze into her little heart. Did that make less room in there for Peyton?

  “Any suggestions?”

  Mentally pulling up her bootstraps, she managed a tight smile. “Water colors or pastels seem to be what she’s into at the moment. Emily has been giving her lessons ever since a paint night last year.”

  “Thanks.”

  Peyton turned back to the yarn, praying Emily was listening and would return. Too many things were happening too fast. She didn’t want Ryder here, but she couldn’t help but be attracted to him jumping feet first into this father thing. She didn’t want to be attracted any more than she was. She needed to remind herself that he might not stay and if he did that trusting him and protecting her heart would become impossible. Especially if he kept doing things like this.

  “So where are you staying?”

  Panic flowed briefly and he shuffled his feet. He was hiding something. She looked closer but levelheaded and calm Ryder was back in place.

  “The cottage for now.”

  Hmmm. Would he be looking for something more permanent or was one of her fears already in the works? If staying away for ten years was so damn easy, he could easily do it again.

  So why did the thought of him leaving again cause her stomach to clench? Four days was nothing. Hell, she’d spent more time with the guests at the ranch than Ryder. And yet, she now found herself looking for his dark head, his cocky stride, his scruffy face. Partly to avoid any more surprise visits but more just to look. To remember. To dream.

  Boot heels on the wooden steps announced Emily’s return. She smiled and winked at Peyton and proceeded to help Ryder gather a nice basket of goodies for Mel.

  Two more days and their daughter would be home.

  Chapter Ten

  The phone rang, and Peyton ignored it as she peered out the curtain for the tenth time. Nothing had changed in the last fifteen seconds. Polly’s voice came over the answering machine full of concern and a half-dozen questions, but Peyton didn’t have time for an update that didn’t exist.

  Shelby had promised to bring Melanie to her rather than the ranch, but maybe something happened. Or maybe Shelby was changing the plan or maybe… Stomping her booted heel, she let the curtain slip through her fingers and went in search of cookies. Finding the emergency stash of heartbreak cookies hiding behind the granola and Cream of Wheat, she popped the lid off the tin and dug in. Three cookies later and Peyton’s heartbeat steadied and sanity returned.

  Of course Shelby wouldn’t change the plan. At least not on this. Next to Ryder appearing unannounced a week ago and his leaving ten years ago, this was the single most important moment in both of their lives. Well, next to the birth of Mel, and in Peyton’s case, finding out she was pregnant.

  Ryder was about to meet his daughter.

  Peyton hadn’t let herself think about this moment over the years. Because along with a wishful, hopeful feeling rode feelings of anger and despair and resentment. She couldn’t divide the two. Despite this week of up and down with Ryder, the airing of most of their concerns and resentment and subsequent truce, even now, she rode the anticipation wave with a firm saddle of resentment supporting her. Why was she making things easy for him? Why answer to his demand to meet his daughter as soon as she got home and before she could prepare the young girl for a life-altering meeting?

  A vision of the picture frame under her daughter’s mattress was the answer. Because Melanie deserved it. As long as it was what she desired—if her daughter even gave a hint of apprehension, Peyton would mama bear Ryder’s dictate up one side and down the other.

  The sound of a dually engine had Peyton sprinting for the front door. She was down the steps before Shelby had shifted into park.

  Melanie leaped from the back seat. “Mom!”

  Peyton caught her daughter in a hug and swung her around, plastering kisses all over her daughter’s dark curls. She smelled of campfire and trees. “I missed you, honey.”

  “Me, too,” Mel mumbled against her chest.

  The sound of a door slamming broke them apart, and Peyton faced Shelby, who leaned against the side of her truck. Mitch, she noticed, remained inside. A flick of her gaze between the man and his wife had Shelby giving her a small shake of the head.

  Melanie tugged her hand, jigging from one foot to another. “Mom, I found a moose rack! A. Moose. Rack.”

  Peyton beamed. A moose rack had been on the long-coveted list for the past two years. Ever since Mel had caught a glimpse of the majestic creature drinking from the lake early one morning. Ruffling Mel’s head, she said, “That’s fantastic, hon.”

  “Mitch said he would
get it preserved for her and mount it.”

  Peyton smiled at Shelby. “Sounds like something right up his alley.”

  “You okay?”

  Peyton nodded. She didn’t want anything else said on the matter until she could talk to Melanie.

  “Well, we’ll get going. Have to run out to Gunther’s Ranch before heading back to Sky Lake.”

  “Thank you again for picking Mel up.”

  “It was our pleasure. Plus a much needed break. Even if the timing ended up being awkward. The ranch is still standing, I assume.”

  “Standing, yes, although it might lean to one side now.”

  Shelby paused, one booted foot on the running board. Then she crossed swiftly over to Peyton and planted a bear hug on both of them. She whispered in her ear, “Thank you. Thank you for giving him the chance.”

  Peyton blinked to keep the tears from falling as Shelby backed down the small driveway.

  “Can we go into town? I want to stop by the gallery and tell Miss Emily about the rack and maybe we could stop by the Wagon Train.” Mel batted dark, thick eyelashes up at her, and Peyton actually considered nodding in agreement. It would be so easy to put this off. To not tell her daughter. To give herself more time to prepare.

  You’ve had ten years to prepare.

  “Mel, I would love to take you into town. But there’s a few things I need to share with you. And I want to hear more about camp. I mean, I can see where the moose rack would be the highlight, but surely there’s a few minor things that had you excited.”

  Mel didn’t look convinced and a pout spread across her face.

  “Honey, it’s important.”

  Her daughter had always been in tune with the adults around her. Maybe it was due to growing up on the ranch surrounded by them or just a genetic fluke, but Mel straightened her expression and said, “I guess town isn’t going anywhere.”

  They made their way into the house. Peyton dropped Mel’s bag in the laundry room and directed her daughter to have a seat. She poured them both a glass of milk and fixed up a plate of cookies.

  Peyton placed both on the table, and Mel whistled. “Cookies? You really must have done something bad.” She snagged one and shoveled it into her mouth.