The Rancher's Second Chance (Martin's Crossing Book 3) (12 page)

“Men don’t use words like
battered
,” he teased. “I’m good. But I’m man enough to admit I’ve done a lot of praying during this drive home. I have peace, and that does a lot for a man.”

He walked her to the front door. She wanted to hold on to him, tell him she got it, that he was strong. But she wasn’t. Not the way he was.

At the door he pulled her to a stop next to him. He leaned down, brushed his cheek against hers. “It’s just another chapter in my story. What’s the next chapter in yours?”

She leaned into his shoulder and his hand rubbed her back, still holding her close. “I wish I knew.”

He grinned. She didn’t see it but she heard it when he spoke. “I think you know. Don’t be afraid of it, Gracie. Just go for it.”

He let her go with a hug and she watched as he limped back to the truck and then drove away. She waited until he was out of sight before she opened the door and went inside. She found Oregon in the kitchen at her sewing machine.

“I thought that might be you,” Oregon said without looking up. She wore glasses and her hair was pulled up in a bun. Absently she reached for a cup of tea and took a sip before going back to the seam she was sewing.

Grace poured herself a glass of water and took a seat at the table a short distance away. Oregon studied her from over the top of the glasses and then she pushed them to the top of her head.

“You look beat. Rough day?”

Grace nodded, sipping the water. “Really rough for Brody.”

“He saw his mom?”

She nodded, wondering how much of the story to tell. She guessed by the next day they would all know.

“They have a sister,” she announced.

“Yes, Samantha. She’s at college. I met her briefly this summer.”

Something must have shown in Grace’s face because Oregon’s eyes widened.

“They have another sister,” Grace explained. “Sylvia was pregnant when she left.”

“Wow. That’s huge. And how is Brody taking this?”

“He’s Brody. I know it hurts but he isn’t going to let it get him down. He wants to know her.”

Oregon studied her for a minute, then moved to a chair at the table. “Do you love him?”

Grace closed her eyes and sighed. “Yes, but how do I tell him that? I had my chance and I hurt him. And now I’m having another man’s baby. Brody is forgiving, but he isn’t going to allow himself to be hurt again.”

“No one said he would be hurt again. But don’t let go of him, Grace. If you love him, give him a chance, because I know he loved you.”

Grace fingered the lace tablecloth and nodded. “Yes, loved, past tense.”

“Is love that easily forgotten?”

Grace didn’t have an answer for that. She only knew that it would hurt to offer her heart to Brody and have him tell her he wasn’t willing to give her another chance. It was easier to tell herself that she had to focus on the baby.

And someday, when life settled down, she’d take time for romance. By then Brody would have moved on. She’d be over him.

She hoped.

Chapter Twelve

B
rody walked to Jake’s the next morning. He needed the exercise to work out the stiffness and he needed to get some fresh air before confronting his brothers. He knew he’d find both brothers together. They’d bought cattle the day before, all young cows, a few ready to drop calves.

He walked through the open door of the barn and saw them leaning over a tractor part. Both were scratching their fool heads as though they didn’t know what to do next. They glanced his way and kept talking.

“What did you do to Old Red?” he asked, referring to the tractor that had been on the place for longer than he’d been alive. It was a death trap, the kind that could roll over if a guy didn’t turn the wheel just right.

“Nothing, just trying to see if we can order this part off the internet. No one around here has parts in stock.”

“I say take Red to the tractor cemetery and call it good.”

Duke shook his head. “That’s just cold.”

“Yeah, well, Red almost tipped on me a few years ago. We haven’t been real close since then.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened the photo of the name and number of their unknown sister. With no explanation he shoved it in front of Jake. “Who is she?”

Jake took the phone, lifted one shoulder in a who-knows manner and handed the phone to Duke. Duke did likewise and handed the phone back to Brody.

“Not a clue,” Duke said. He picked up the piece of metal. “You know, I don’t even know what this part is. I just know it makes the tractor run.”

“She’s our sister,” Brody blurted out, waiting to see if they were as shocked as he’d been. Both looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. Jake took the phone back and gave it another look.

“What are you talking about?” Duke gave him a careful look and then glanced at the phone Jake held.

“I visited Sylvia and when I got there, the nurse said the only one who ever visited was Sylvia’s daughter Kayla. She was surprised that our mother has other children. And I was pretty surprised to learn that Sylvia was pregnant when she left here.” He narrowed his gaze at Jake. “Is that something you haven’t been telling me? That and the fact that she beat me the day she left.”

“You didn’t remember the beating, so I didn’t think it would be good to bring it up. You were always determined to think she was better than she was.” Jake picked up the tractor part and headed for his truck. Brody followed behind him, feeling a lot like the kid who had always tagged along behind his older brothers.

“Did you know she was pregnant?”

Jake put the tractor part in the back of his truck and then faced Brody. Duke had followed them out and he leaned against the side of the truck, arms on the side of the bed.

“No. I didn’t know she was pregnant.”

“She had an affair,” Brody went on, half-mad that his voice shook. “So we have a half sister somewhere in Texas.”

“Have you thought to search for her on the internet?” Duke asked with a lazy drawl.

“No, I’m too stupid for that,” Brody shot back. Sometimes brothers were more trouble than they were worth. “Yes, I did. Last night I typed her name into the search engine, but I couldn’t do it. And I haven’t called her. It just seemed like something we should do together.

Jake didn’t reply. He rubbed the back of his neck and stared out over fields that had turned brown from heat and lack of rain. In the distance the hills were hazy in the early morning light.

“Let’s give her a call. Maybe she knows more about us than we know about her,” Duke suggested, stepping away from the truck. “I’ll call if you don’t want to.”

“Be my guest.” Jake handed him the phone.

Duke punched in the numbers and then he waited. “Kayla Stanford, this is Duke Martin from the Circle M Ranch at Martin’s Crossing. I think we’re both acquainted with Sylvia Martin. Please call me back at this number.” He recited his own number and handed the phone back to Brody. “It’s done. Maybe you can let go of the past, baby brother, and get on with your life.”

“I’m not dwelling on the past. I just don’t like missing pieces. And I can’t believe you don’t care that we might have a little sister out there somewhere.”

“I care,” Duke said with a shrug. “But I’ve dealt with the past. I’ve moved on.”

Brody couldn’t disagree, but he wanted to remind Duke that he’d pretty much drank about ten years of his life away trying to get past what Sylvia had done to them. He hadn’t bottled up his anger. He’d unleashed it on the world, living fast and furious at rodeos, then in the army.

Jake had become the family’s keeper, too busy for anything other than the ranch, his business and raising his siblings.

Brody shook his head, thinking about the mess they all were. Just because one woman couldn’t be a decent mom. His thoughts spun to Samantha, their baby sister, left in the care of a dad who hadn’t been able to cope and brothers who hadn’t known what to do with her. So they’d shipped her off to boarding school.

He guessed they all were at least semifunctional these days.

“So what now?” Brody said. “Did you need some help out here today?

“Not really. I have the guys handling the new heifers.” By guys, Jake meant the two men who worked for the Circle M. “I think they’re going to work on the fence after that. I have to go to Austin for a few days for a consulting job with a new company. Breezy and the twins are going with me.”

“I can do whatever you need me to do around here. And I have a horse to look at this afternoon. I didn’t want to have to feed extra livestock through the winter, but it’s a good deal.”

“I can’t think of anything that needs doing. Go look at the horse,” Jake said as he walked away from the truck. “I’m heading to the house to get ready for the trip. Let me know if you hear anything from Kayla Stanford.”

“Will do,” Duke called out to his retreating back. And then, because things couldn’t go the way Brody wanted, Duke zeroed in on him. “And how long is Miss Thomas going to be a resident in Martin’s Crossing? She told Oregon she likes it here. She said she should go home, but she’s gotten used to small town life.”

“I don’t have a clue what she plans on doing.”

“Maybe you should be more attentive to the lady. You can’t catch her with this hard-to-get attitude.”

“She very politely turned me loose a year ago and I’m respecting that.”

Duke grinned, as though he didn’t notice Brody was done with the conversation. “You have heard that women change their minds, right?”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard. I’m not so inclined.” Brody waved goodbye and headed for the trail that led back to his place.

He hadn’t made it fifty feet when he heard Duke’s phone ring. He spun around, heading back that way before Duke even answered. When he got to the truck where Duke stood, he could see by the expression on his brother’s face that Kayla Stanford had returned their call.

The call lasted only a moment. Because Duke was Duke, Brody didn’t have a clue how it went. He stood there waiting, leaning against the side of the farm truck. Duke pocketed the phone.

Lilly’s dog, Belle, joined them. The animal sat at Brody’s feet, leaning on his legs, tongue hanging and a dog grin on her face, because Belle didn’t have a care in the world other than herding cattle and spending time with Lilly. Oh, and making sure her dog dish was full.

“She’s our sister, all right,” Duke finally spoke. “She’s also the daughter of a lawyer in Austin. I’ve heard of the guy. He’s well-known and political. And Miss Stanford sounds like trouble with a capital T.”

“Why do you say that?” Brody absently reached to pet Belle. The dog took a loving swipe at his hand with her tongue.

Duke scratched his scruffy chin. “Well, she said her daddy sure is going to enjoy this scandal. He’s getting ready to run for office in a year or so and he’d like to keep family secrets hidden. I got the opinion she didn’t much care.”

“Great. Another Samantha.”

Duke laughed. “Sounds that way. She said she has to work but she’ll head this way in a few days. She can’t wait to meet us. And her dad never married Sylvia. Seems that Sylvia realized she wasn’t much of a mom, so when Kayla was born, she dumped the baby with her daddy and Sylvia skated out of town.”

Brody shook his head, half mad, half sad for their mother, for Kayla Stanford and for anyone else left in the wake of the tornado that was Sylvia Martin. A part of him realized she probably couldn’t help it. He made the mistake of voicing that opinion. Duke shook his head.

“Don’t make excuses for her,” Duke said with more anger than Brody had heard in his brother’s voice in a long time.

“I’m stating a fact. She’s not a healthy woman, and she probably did the best thing when she left.”

“That’s generous of you, Brody. But you don’t remember what she did to you that day. I can’t forget the marks she left on you.”

“Maybe you should fill me in.”

“You had black marks across your back, bruises on your face. I think she might have killed you for bringing that kitten in the house if me and Jake hadn’t pulled her off you. She hated cats.”

Brody didn’t remember.

“I guess that explains some things.” Brody finally edged the words out. “If there’s nothing else to do, I’m going to head over and look at that gelding.”

“Go ahead. And, Brody, it really is good to forgive. It’s the right thing to do.”

Brody nodded as he walked away. His phone had been ringing silently in his shirt pocket. He saw that it was Grace. He whistled for Belle to follow and headed down the trail in the direction of Oregon’s.

As he walked he realized he was losing the battle—the one in which he kept his heart from getting all tangled up with hers a second time. Knowing that should have been enough to send him back to his trailer.

Instead, he kept walking on the path to Grace.

* * *

As Grace poured herself a glass of juice, someone knocked on the front door. She hadn’t heard a car pull up, but still she went to the window, her heart racing, worrying that it might be Lincoln.

She really thought she’d shaken her fears, but they came back at odd times. Especially now, knowing he’d bailed out of jail. Even with the restraining order Jake’s attorney had procured, she knew Lincoln could crash into her life again. It seemed she’d spent the past year afraid of being near him, afraid to turn him down. Afraid of what he’d do to her baby.

“Grace, it’s Brody.”

She relaxed, exhaling the breath she’d held. “Coming.”

He stood on the front stoop, cautious, handsome, that one dimple deepening as he flashed white teeth. The bent-up cowboy hat covered his head, but stray curls brushed the collar of his shirt. His blue eyes were dark and lingered on her face.

“I didn’t expect you.” Did she sound breathless, happy to see him? It hadn’t been her intention. But she was—happy, relieved and other emotions that she didn’t want to acknowledge. Complicated emotions that she knew would make decisions more difficult.

Stay or go. These days the two choices were constantly nagging at her.

“Didn’t you expect me? You called,” he teased as he entered the house. “Is there coffee?”

“Afraid not. I could pour you a glass of orange juice.” She held up the glass of juice.

“Afraid not.” He headed for the kitchen. “I’ll make the coffee. Have you eaten anything?”

“I had toast. Brody, you don’t have to make me breakfast. I can cook.”

He stopped at the door of the kitchen and glanced back at her. “Yeah, I know you can. I also know you probably won’t.”

“Toast settles my stomach.”

“Of course, okay.” He rubbed a hand along his jaw and studied her. “I have to go look at a horse I might buy. Do you want to go?”

She wanted to, yes, more than anything. But she shouldn’t. But she didn’t have plans, nothing to do. It felt as if her life was hovering in limbo, waiting for her to choose door number one or door number two. She wanted another option.

Yes, she’d been praying. Praying and seeking and waiting. And it felt as if answers were still just out of reach.

“Well?” He lifted the empty coffeepot, then returned it to the burner. “Forget coffee.”

“I told you there wasn’t any.”

“I know. Do you want to go?”

“Let me get my shoes.” She gave him one last look as she left the kitchen. He was standing at the sink, and he saluted by tipping the brim of his hat and nodding.

Her heart tripped all over itself. That gesture, the man, it was all too much. He was strong. He was vulnerable. He wasn’t always as sure of himself as he pretended to be. He had her heart in a way she hadn’t expected.

They left a few minutes later, walking the short distance to his trailer, where he’d left his truck. He seemed to be having less pain than he had just weeks ago. She started to mention it but thought better of it. He probably didn’t want it pointed out.

“Where did you say we’re going?” she asked as she got in the truck.

“The Rockhurst ranch. It’s about fifteen miles from here. They have a gelding they want to donate.” He closed the door and got in on the other side. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. The nausea is almost gone.” She took the opening. “And you?”

He shrugged. “I guess I’m fine. Duke called our sister Kayla. She’s going to visit us.”

“It’s a lot, Brody. Having a new family, finding your mom. On top of...” she didn’t finish.

“The arthritis,” he finished for her.

“Yes, I guess.”

“It isn’t a year I’d like to relive,” he admitted.

She wondered if he would include her in that sentiment. If he had it to do over again, would he wish he’d never met her? It made her think about what she would change about this year.

She would have turned down Lincoln. She would have been stronger. Her hand stole to her belly because it was a hard thing to settle in her mind. She wouldn’t want a do-over with Lincoln. But this baby? She closed her eyes. Maybe she hadn’t planned on having a baby right now, but she was, and she loved the little person growing inside her.

One choice led to another. To regret one meant to regret the other. What she regretted was Lincoln. She regretted losing herself, her faith, her convictions. She regretted mistakes made. She wouldn’t let her child grow up feeling like one of her regrets.