The Rancher's Rescue

The stairs creaked loudly, or perhaps that was his own uncertainty.

Katie glanced back at him. “Plus, Butterscotch needs your attention, Ethan.”

“What was Big E thinking breeding her?” Ethan asked, entering the kitchen, where Katie already had her coffee refilled and a toasted bagel slathered with cream cheese. The new kitchen decor stopped Ethan in his tracks. It always did. Never mind the pink-feathered chandelier or bubble gum–colored paint, what he resented were the extravagant prices Zoe had paid for her superficial changes that had destroyed what used to be the heart of the house.

“I know. It’s a bit scary. But you can blame Zoe for that one too.” Katie tipped her coffee mug at Ethan. “She arranged the whole thing as a surprise for Big E. Something about bringing new life to the ranch.”

“You aren’t serious? She can’t be that...” Ethan failed to find a suitable word, probably because his mind was overwhelmed with calculating the cost of the custom-made pink-trimmed cabinets and hand-cut sparkly backsplash.

“Insensitive?” Katie finished for him.

“Don’t forget clueless about how a working ranch runs.” Jon swiped the bagel from Katie’s hand and took a large bite before she could claim it back.

Katie was five years younger than Ethan and practically one of the family.

“Butterscotch is twenty-three.” And a dependable, calm paint, Ethan thought, since the very first moment Big E had guided her off the trailer as a birthday present for Ethan’s mother. Butterscotch hadn’t spooked ever when one of Big E’s new wives had wanted to ride her, despite each spouse being less suited for ranch life than the last. The white-and-chestnut-colored mare had earned her peace, not a risky pregnancy.

“Zoe wanted her mare and Butterscotch to birth at the same time because two foals in the pasture make for better pictures.” Katie frowned at the empty cream cheese container as if searching for something to explain Zoe’s reasoning. “For the guests.”

If the older mare survived. If the foal survived. “Butterscotch needs to be under veterinary care.” Ethan stepped out of Katie’s way.

“And she’ll have it now that you’re home.” Katie toasted Ethan with her second bagel.

Ethan wasn’t home to stay though. He was as temporary on the ranch as his step-grandmothers. He was six days into the one-month visit he’d promised Jon. Surely that was long enough to straighten out the accounts, stabilize the ranch and, if Big E failed to return, sell the place. He’d pocket his share from the sale and move on with his life. “I’ll check on Butterscotch and then take a look at the faucet.” Because Jon had enough on his plate with his twin five-year-old girls and his own ranch to take care of. Never mind that Jon was also recently engaged to his former nanny, Lydia.

“First guests arrive at the end of the month. The faucet in the bunk house can wait.” Katie pulled out her phone and swiped across the screen. “We need that fence fixed before I can release the cattle into the pasture.”

“I have to be at Dr. Ross’s office for the twins’ appointments in an hour, but I can come back this afternoon and help with the fence.” Jon put his hat on and strode to the back door. Trout followed, the click of his nails on the hardwood floor in rhythm with the thump of Jon’s boots. “And I might have an extra ATV battery at my place.”

Ethan appreciated the offer. “After I check on Butterscotch, I’ll head over to Brewster Ranch Supply. The heifers need vaccines and the mares could do with supplements.”

“When you’re at Brewster’s, ask Grace if she’ll help with Big E’s books,” Jon said.

“Why would I do that?” Ethan rubbed his neck to remove the edge from his tone.

“Because you’ve been staring at the accounting stuff since you arrived.” Jon waved toward the office and the stairs. “Because we weren’t up in the bedroom looking for Christmas presents. And because we need a professional opinion on the financials.”

“Grace and her family will also have leads on possible new ranch hand hires.” Katie tossed the cream cheese container in the trash and the knife in the sink. “They always hear before I do.”

Ethan massaged his chest as if the knife had lodged there instead of clattering in the sink. Certainly, his heart hadn’t staled and stuttered at the mention of Grace Gardner. More like embarrassment kicked his pride, wedging regret between his ribs.

Grace and Ethan had spent one night together, but she had sneaked out the next morning without a goodbye. Whether too many champagne bubbles had blurred the signals and he’d misread the entire evening, or Grace’s experience had been less than remarkable. Either way, he owed Grace an overdue apology. “But she can’t be the only accountant in town,” he insisted.

“Grace is certified with a real degree and she’s quiet, so she won’t be talking all over Falcon Creek about Blackwell business.” Katie crossed her arms over her chest and studied him. “Don’t tell me you still aren’t over Sarah Ashley?”

Ethan blinked. Sarah Ashley was Grace’s older sister and Ethan’s long-ago, on-and-off-again girlfriend. The snag in his voice had nothing to do with his ex and everything to do with her younger sister. How was he supposed to apologize to Grace for crossing the friend barrier and then ask her for help as if nothing had ever happened?

“From what I’ve heard, Sarah Ashley married the man she rightly deserved.” Katie shrugged. “What? Mabel keeps me up-to-date.”

Mabel being the postmaster and beacon of all gossip in Falcon Creek.

“Well, some folks didn’t get home until all hours from that wedding reception, so things must have started off okay,” Jon said.

His brother was referring to Ethan not returning to Jon’s house until the next morning, long after Sarah Ashley’s reception. Ethan hadn’t confessed to his brother where he’d spent the night or with whom he’d spent it.

Jon punched his brother’s shoulder as he was leaving. “Talk to Grace.”

“Listen to your brother.” Katie let the back door slam shut behind her.

Ethan flattened his palms over his face and speared his fingers into his hair. He’d attended Sarah Ashley’s Valentine’s Day wedding after he’d received a series of manic texts from the bride saying she was having doubts. He’d tried to ignore her, but what if she was the one for him? When he’d arrived at the church, after another flurry of anxious texts from Sarah Ashley, Grace had blocked him from seeing the bride and told him it was past time to let Sarah Ashley go. That her sister was well and truly in love. That the match was perfect. Suddenly, Ethan had begun to think there was something perfect about Grace.

With one question, he interrupted Grace’s extensive list of reasons that Sarah Ashley and her fiancé were meant to be together: Did Sarah Ashley’s fiancé treat her well? Grace had blinked and answered: very well. And that had been enough. Ethan had sat in the back row for the ceremony. His gaze hadn’t lingered on the bride and what he’d lost, but rather, it strayed too many times to a certain maid of honor, making him wonder what he’d missed.

It was only during the reception, when the champagne corks had popped, that Ethan approached Grace. And yes, maybe Grace had given a sweet, funny toast to her sister and new husband that won over the guests. And yes, maybe Grace had looked like a goddess in her sleek formal gown. And yes, he’d danced her into a dark corner and...

The next thing he knew it was the following morning and he was on his own. He’d been trying to forget that moment ever since.

* * *

WITH HER BABY’S heartbeat echoing in her heart, a picture of her ultrasound resting in her pocket and her due date entered on her calendar, Grace Gardner drove toward her family’s store, Brewster Ranch Supply, determined to get through the workday without vomiting. She was equally determined this would be the week she called Ethan Blackwell to tell him about the baby. One phone call couldn’t be that hard, could it?

She rolled to a stop at the only light in town. It seemed the light spent more time on red than green, as if daring the locals to spot the seven differences between the downtown of today and that of a decade ago. Grace could find only one.

The morning after her night with Ethan she’d sat at this red light smiling and feeling slightly delirious.

The delirium had passed, along with the stutter in her heart, when the positive pink stripes had appeared on the pregnancy test. Somehow, she’d kept her smile in place, even though Grandma Brewster had warned her in high school that being pregnant was nothing to celebrate. But Grace wasn’t a teenager with hormones and a crush. She was an adult with an accounting degree and soon she’d have her own business. More important, she had a baby plan.

Pushing her glasses up on her nose, Grace blurted out, “Ethan, I’m your baby.” She tapped her forehead on the steering wheel and muttered, “Having your baby. Your kid. Child. Baby.” Her sigh was loud and long and she shook out her arms, lifted her chin. “Ethan, I’m having your baby so—”

A horn blared behind her. And then another. Her practice conversation concluded, Grace accelerated through the light and parked in a stall behind her family’s store. She weaved through the storage area to her makeshift office. Her father’s burst of laughter from the front had her changing directions.

Perhaps a hug from her dad would bolster her confidence to finally contact Ethan.

Grace pushed through the swinging door that connected the storage area to the store proper and gripped the nearest shelf to keep her knees from buckling. She could forget the phone call. It hadn’t been her father’s laughter calling to her after all. It’d been Ethan Blackwell’s.

A flush swept over her skin. She would’ve blamed it on morning sickness if not for the familiar blue eyes zeroing in on her over her mother’s head.

The same blue eyes that had never wavered when she’d talked about herself and her dreams that night in the hotel bar while her sister’s reception continued down the hall. The same blue eyes that had cataloged every detail about her while she’d been wrapped in his strong embrace. The same blue eyes she wished for her baby.

“Perfect timing, Gracie.” Her father smacked the counter. “Look who wandered in and asked to see you.”

Grace squeezed the shelf, the way her heart seemed to be squeezing inside her chest. Ethan might’ve asked to see her, but she wasn’t starring in one of her sister’s romantic fantasies. “Is there something you needed, Ethan?” Like my heart.

Grace chastised herself. Her heart wasn’t going to be part of any conversation with Ethan. Ever. She hadn’t earned the title of most levelheaded Gardner sister on a whim.

“Is there someplace we can talk in private?” Ethan asked.

“Take Ethan to your office.” Her mother guided Ethan around the counter to the employees-only side. “When the two of you finish, Ethan, we can talk about the feed inventory and the reorder.”