The Rancher's Rescue

Unfortunately, as a kid, he’d been more worried about shoveling food into his mouth before his brothers stole it from his plate than considering how it was made. He’d never wandered into the kitchen to help his mom. He’d only ever wandered into the kitchen to snatch a cookie or bag of chips.

After his parents had died, they all learned meals didn’t just appear on the table. Big E had assigned a night for each one of the boys to prepare dinner for the family. That was when Ethan had figured out a handful of quick recipes that required one pot and little preparation. Chicken soup remained his go-to staple.

Soup reheated and ladled into bowls, Ethan carried dinner into Big E’s office on a tray.

Grace looked up from a pile of receipts that covered every inch of Big E’s oversize oak desk. “It might be easier to eat in the kitchen.”

“In here is fine.” He ate every night in the office, in the same leather chair. This was the only room that suited him. Even his childhood bedroom, which he’d shared with Ben and had once contained a bunk bed fort and countless army men, now resembled a giant box of glitter. He’d spent his first night in the room wondering how much the floor-to-ceiling silver curtains that shimmered like waterfalls had cost. He’d moved into Cabin Six after that and hadn’t returned to his childhood room since.

He placed Grace’s soup and crackers beside her. Setting his soup on top of the receipts, he pulled the leather chair closer to the desk and sat down.

“Is there something wrong with the kitchen?” Grace asked.

Ethan crushed crackers into his soup. “It’s cold.” Too pink. Too frivolous. Too dollhouse happy.

“It’s updated and modern with every convenience sold on the market today.” Her eyebrows pulled together behind her glasses. “A chef’s dream.”

But not his mother’s dream. He couldn’t find his mother in the house anymore and that put a chill inside the walls that couldn’t be driven out with a roaring fire. He scooped up a pile of receipts from beneath his bowl and dropped them on the side table. “We can eat and work. It’ll go faster with the two of us. What are you doing anyway?”

Grace pushed up her glasses and used her spoon to stir her soup. “Putting the receipts into piles by year.”

Soup bowls scraped clean and receipts organized, Ethan eased back in the leather chair and watched Grace’s fingers fly over a circa-1970s calculator complete with a roll of white paper. The pencil in her other hand scribbled across a legal notepad. “You’re good at this.”

“I should be. It’s my profession.” Grace tapped the pencil against her temple. “Certified public accountant with a master’s degree in accounting.”

“Impressive.” Ethan steepled his hands and set them under his chin. He pictured her inside her cramped office with the equally compact metal desk. She’d seemed smaller inside that office. Now she seemed to own Big E’s desk and the entire space. He decided she belonged in an office she could command. “You should have your own business.”

“That’s in the works.” Her fingers paused on the calculator, a look of surprise in her wide eyes. “But that isn’t public knowledge. I’d appreciate you not talking about it.”

“But you’re a staple at the store,” he said. Grace had been working at Brewster’s since they’d been kids. Everyone always knew she would be there. Everyone also knew if they needed something, they only had to find Grace. Always Grace.

Grace’s entire face twisted into a grimace as if he’d called her the unwanted sweet potato hash on his plate. “I have more to offer than inventory spreadsheets and special orders.”

“I agree.” Grace was unexpected, like those over-easy eggs on his sweet potato hash.

Grace fumbled with her pencil and adjusted her glasses as if Ethan had messed with her paperwork.

Ethan let her fall back into her number crunching while he tried not to fall into the surprise of Grace Gardner. He listened to her fingers tapping on the calculator keys and the paper rolling out.

“Staring at her is not helping the ranch out.” Katie stood in the doorway and peered around a stack of folded bedsheets in her arms. “But making beds in the lodge will.”

“I don’t want to make beds.” He wanted to stay right where he was. With Grace.

Katie dumped the stack of linens on Ethan’s lap. “I didn’t want to iron and look how that turned out.”

Ethan ran his hand over the smooth top sheet. “Nice job.”

“They’ll look even better on the beds.” Katie smiled and turned to Grace. “Thanks for the help, Grace. If you need anything, I’ll be in the barn. Ethan will be in the guest lodge.”

“Looks like the team leader has spoken and I have more work to do.” Ethan stood and balanced the sheets so he wouldn’t drop them. “Grace, text me before you leave.”

Grace glanced at him, her gaze distracted, her smile distant. “Sure.”

Katie rushed around Ethan. “Let me get the back door for you.”

“Thanks,” Ethan muttered as he left the study.

“Wouldn’t want you sneaking back into the office for more one-on-one time with Grace,” Katie joked.

“We were working.”

“Grace was working.” Katie swung open the back door, but caught Ethan’s arm before he left. “I don’t know what you were doing, Eth. Pining, maybe?”

“I’ve never pined in my life.” He bumped his shoulder into hers as he stepped outside. “I was half asleep and you ruined my nap.”

“Whatever.” Katie kept pace beside him as he lengthened his stride down the back porch steps. “What’s up with you and Grace? You can tell me. I’m practically your sister.”

“Leave it alone, Katie.” Ethan turned toward the guest lodge and smiled. Hip wasn’t allowed at the lodge and he knew Katie wouldn’t tag along without her dog. “Get back to work or I’ll have to fire you for laziness.”

“You wouldn’t survive a day without me,” she countered.

“An hour.”

“What?”

He faced her and tried to look stern. “I wouldn’t survive an hour out here without you, but don’t let it go to your head.”

“It’s good to have you back, Ethan.” Katie laughed and whistled for Hip to accompany her into the barn.

One king bed and a set of twin beds later, Ethan pounded his fist into a feather pillow. He’d spent the last hour tangled up in sheets and duvets and not in the good kind of way. Who put so many buttons on duvets when a simple zipper would work just fine?

Grace and Katie arrived at the second bedroom of the Big Sky wing and burst out laughing. “We came to see what has been taking you so long,” Grace said.

“Fluffing a pillow.” Ethan smashed the pillow again with his fist.

“That’s a beating.” Grace yanked the pillow away from Ethan and patted the stuffing back into place. Her hands gentle as if she did this every day.

“What does it matter?” Ethan fell face forward across the queen bed. “This is what beds are for. There’s no pretty required.” He could think of a few other things beds were good for, like holding Grace all night.

Fortunately, Grace and Katie chose that moment to pummel his back with pillows, pummeling his wayward thoughts away, and he grunted into the mattress.

Grace put her pillow back against the headboard. “How many more rooms do you have to do?”

“Too many. Who builds a lodge with so many rooms anyway?” Ethan turned his head and grinned at Katie. “Rooms four through seven are haunted and need to be closed indefinitely.”

Katie smacked him with her pillow again. “Not happening.”

“Come on,” Grace said. “We’ll teach you how to do pretty.”

He thought Grace looked pretty with the moonlight streaming in from the window framing her from behind. “I don’t want to learn.”

“This won’t leave a scar. I promise.” She gripped his hand and pulled, trying to tug him off the bed.

Ethan rolled over, but kept his hand inside hers. “Tomorrow I’m doing all manly tasks. Nothing that requires pretty.”

“Fine with me.” Katie tossed her pillow on the bed. “Now get up, so we can get this done and finally call it a night.”

With having called time on the pillow fights, the three of them finished the other guest rooms quickly. As he said good-night to Grace at her car, he thought she looked almost exhausted. Was he asking too much of her to try to make sense of Big E’s accounts?

Ethan stretched out across the queen bed in Cabin Six after a midnight snack, and considered all the repairs that were needed in his cabin alone. The to-do list seemed to double every night. But Grace had offered a reprieve and made the evening less toilsome. Less lonely. And he’d learned to do pretty.

He’d learned more than that too. He now knew Grace’s favorite color: purple, thanks to an argument between Katie and Grace about whether the shower curtain in one of the suites was lavender or lilac.

He’d learned Grace’s favorite flower: sunflower. This came out after Katie and Grace agreed the large guest room in the Western Wing needed some decoration and that several different flowers should be painted as a border along the walls.

And her favorite time of the day: the witching hour, when magic happens. That, she’d let slip, when he’d walked her to her car. She’d pointed out a shooting star, smiled and closed her eyes as if making a wish.

Not that he intended to do anything with his new information about Grace. Or to even repeat the getting-to-know-Grace-better evening.

She worked for the Blackwells. Nothing more.

After all, he’d returned home to help his brother with the ranch, not discover if there was something more between him and Grace.

CHAPTER FIVE

GRACE SWISHED WATER around her mouth and spit it out into the bathroom sink in Brewster’s warehouse. She’d avoided the newly renovated bathroom in the main store ever since her morning sickness had extended into days and evenings. Unfortunately, as her nausea didn’t seem to be lessening, her stomach seemed to be expanding every hour. Thankfully she had a jacket with her yesterday to conceal her growing tummy from Ethan. Nothing managed to conceal her nausea though.

Ten minutes into the ATV ride at the Blackwell ranch last night, she’d decided the horse might’ve been the better option. Ethan had driven the four-wheeler like he was on an off-roading race course and trying to catch the leader. Grace had spent most of the ride trying to catch her breath and calm her stomach.

She’d thought her note at the hotel had ended any discussion of their one night together like an exclamation point ended a sentence. She’d lost that battle when Ethan had teased about eating the snake.

She touched her stomach.

Of course, their discussion was far from over. Far from complete.

But she’d never dare expect more from Ethan Blackwell than one night. One memorable night. She’d always been the friend. The confidante. But not the girlfriend. She’d been “like the sister” that a guy had never had so often that her family tree should’ve fallen over by the time she’d graduated from college. There wasn’t a variation on the we-make-better-friends line that she hadn’t heard.

Once she’d moved home from college, she’d shelved relationships and dating with her statistics books. Until Ethan. She’d stepped into that hotel room with Ethan with her eyes open and her head clear. It was only ever supposed to be one night.

She touched her stomach.

Yet, Ethan had made her feel anything but plain last night when they’d been teasing each other and laughing for most of the night. She’d been anything but quiet around him ever since he’d come back to Falcon Creek. He also hadn’t scoffed at her business ideas or suggested she rethink her goals. He’d even complimented her skills.

Nothing that made her heart trip over, of course.

Her heart had stopped tripping in middle school when Trevor Dixon chose her younger sister, Nicole Marie, over Grace for the holiday dance. Her sister had tried to persuade Trevor to take Grace. But he’d moved on to Dana Brantley by lunch. And Grace had moved into Brewster’s, making herself a permanent and indispensable fixture in the store. She had her family, the store and her show horses. That had been enough.

Until recently. But now she had a baby to concentrate on. A baby to love.

Her name echoed over the store’s loudspeaker. Grace splashed her cheeks with cold water and yanked open the door, but pulled back to keep from running into her sister.

Sarah Ashley handed her several paper towels, but remained in Grace’s path, her gaze skimming over Grace’s face.

“Thanks.” Grace wiped the paper towel across her damp forehead. “Something I ate at breakfast didn’t agree with me.”

“That’s been happening frequently.” Sarah Ashley arched one perfectly groomed eyebrow.

“Maybe I need to make better breakfast choices.” Her heart definitely needed to make better choices, like not to get involved in the first place. Otherwise she’d only have herself to blame if she let Ethan break it. She was even more ill this morning than she’d thought if she was considering hearts and Ethan in the same sentence.

“It’s almost like you’re pregnant, Grace.” Sarah Ashley leaned against the doorway as if she was intent to wait out the long bathroom line.

Except this wasn’t a concert venue in the city. And there wasn’t an extended line at the women’s restroom. Only Grace, stuck inside the tiny bathroom, adjusting her shirt to hide the truth from her sister’s penetrating stare.

“Of course, that couldn’t be possible.” Sarah Ashley’s mouth dipped into a pout. “You’ve always hated attention. Can you imagine the awful amount of attention you’d get if you were pregnant? Without a husband.”

Grace didn’t hate being noticed. It was just that her sisters demanded the spotlight and Grace had been content to let them battle for center stage. But Grace had always wanted to be like her sisters: beautiful, vivacious, all-encompassing. No one wanted to be Grace. There were more years than Grace cared to admit to when she didn’t even want to be Grace. Not the practical, rule-following, ordinary Gardner sister bookended between two show-stealing siblings. Grace had always been the other sister. The afterthought Gardner. “Women have babies all the time without husbands, Sarah Ashley.”

“Not in this family.” Her sister’s voice sounded solemn as if she was the newly elected head mistress of propriety and respectability.

But morals had nothing to do with Sarah Ashley’s objections to a baby out of wedlock. In the Gardner family, any baby would steal the spotlight from Sarah Ashley. Any baby would threaten Sarah Ashley’s princess status. “Did you want to discuss the reasons women have babies without being married?”

“No.” Sarah Ashley waved her hand at Grace’s stomach. “I want to know why you won’t admit you’re pregnant?”

“Why do you keep saying I’m pregnant?” Grace tugged on her shirt, wishing she’d put on the longer flannel even if she would’ve been too warm.

“You seem dependent on mints and ginger lollipops. You’ve stopped eating bacon and the night owl can’t stay awake past sunset anymore.” Sarah Ashley crossed her arms over her chest and tipped her head at Grace. “I might bleach my hair, but I don’t bleach my brain.”

Grace stopped fidgeting with her shirt and yanked her sister’s arm, pulling Sarah Ashley the five steps down the hallway to her office. She pushed Sarah Ashley inside and shut the door, cramming them both inside. “Why are you here?”

“The shipment of dog food arrived. I added all twenty pallets into the inventory, but the prices were coded incorrectly from the vendor.” Sarah Ashley brushed a curl behind her ear and shrugged as if everyone knew vendors weren’t dependable. “Everything’s ringing up wrong in the system. I need you to fix it.”

Grace edged behind her desk as if the dented metal might shield her from confessing anything to her sister. “I meant, why did you move back home?”

Sarah Ashley sat in the metal folding chair that faced Grace’s desk and crossed her ankles like royalty on a national stage. “Is this what we’re going to do? Trade insider secrets. I tell you about my marriage woes and you fess up about the baby.”

Grace jammed her hand in the candy bowl. Her sister had a man who had fallen in love with her, and yet, she’d moved back home after only three months of apparent bliss. No one knew the real reason.

“It’s just that you’ve never liked the family business.” Grace had spent every free hour after school and in the summers working at Brewster’s. Sarah Ashley had spent those same days anyplace other than the family store. Sarah Ashley had majored in art and design, not business.

“I’ve never been given the chance to like it or dislike it.” Sarah Ashley squeezed her wedding ring, and doubt filled her gaze just for a moment. “Everybody assumed I didn’t. Besides, you were here first. You seemed to be all Mom and Dad needed.”

All Grace remembered was their parents letting Sarah Ashley do whatever had pleased her. Whenever Grace had asked about her older sister, her mother would smile and say, “Sarah Ashley is off being Sarah Ashley.”

“But you never showed any interest in Brewster’s,” Grace repeated. Ever. For her sister, it had always been about dates and trips with friends and finding the prettiest boots.

“I am now.” Sarah Ashley’s crisp voice matched her firm nod. “And you’ve never shown any interest in becoming a mother.”

Grace smoothed her hand over her stomach. Would her sister understand the love she already had for her child? Would her sister understand that Grace had never imagined falling in love herself or finding someone to love her? Sarah Ashley believed in fairy tales, true love and pots of gold at the end of rainbows. Grace believed in the real world where people liked her because she was a Gardner. But she wasn’t the Gardner sister a man fell in love with.

Grace fumbled with the wrapper on a mint. The plastic had melted to the candy like useless daydreams melted for her.

“Have you at least told the father about the baby?” Sarah Ashley rubbed her hands together, looking more like a prosecutor all too aware that the defendant’s witness was about to confess, and she’d win the case. Her sister had wasted her interrogation skills on fashion design and art.

Grace crammed a ginger lollipop in her mouth along with the mint. “What are you talking about now?”

“You aren’t as progressive as all that. We both know you didn’t visit a sperm bank. So, there must be a father somewhere that you know about.” Sarah Ashley’s prosecutor-like gaze refused to release Grace from her focus.

Grace’s teeth cracked down hard on the mint and lollipop, breaking the candy into pieces, releasing the peppermint and ginger flavors. But nothing stopped that slow flop of her stomach. Clearly, her sister wasn’t ready to confess her motivation for being back in town. Likewise, Grace wasn’t ready to spill the truth in her heart either. At least not until she knew her sister’s game. “There will be a father when I decide to have a child.”

“I’ve been running through potential daddies and I have a list.” Sarah Ashley leaned forward. “Want to hear who I think it is?”

“Not unless you want to tell me why you won’t go home, even as Alec begs you every night to come back.”

Sarah Ashley scooted the chair closer to the desk as if she was prepared to offer Grace a perfect plea deal. “I bet I’ll figure out who the father is before the father learns about his baby.”

Grace searched her sister’s face, looking for a warning or threat, and finding none. “How about we bet that you’ll tire of the business before the end of the month and leave everyone to tidy up the mess you’ve created?”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Sarah Ashley grabbed a peppermint from the candy dish on the desk and stood up. At the door, she turned and eyed Grace. “But it’s May, not January, and you can’t layer up to hide your baby bump for the next six months. You’re going to need to trust someone if you intend to keep your secret.”

Sarah Ashley walked out. Grace stared at her steel office door as if it were a magic mirror that would reveal everything. But all Grace knew was that a race had begun and she hadn’t left the starting line. And time was about to run out.

Grace had to tell Ethan before Sarah Ashley figured out who the father was and took it upon herself to tell the daddy the good news.