The Rancher's Christmas Match

Chapter Two

Isaac knew that life was all about choices. He’d made the choice to join the army, partly to serve his country and partly because he knew it would make Jack West, his father, madder than anything. He’d made a choice that morning to tease the pretty blonde who had assumed he’d been drinking.

The decision to join the military had changed his life. Forever. It had matured him, scarred him and left him with nightmares he wouldn’t wish on anyone. Accepting the ride from Rebecca Barnes was not going to be one of those life-altering choices. It had only been a ride home, nothing more. As he entered the house carrying the little girl, Allie, he knew better than to fool himself into thinking Rebecca was a woman who wouldn’t change a man’s life. She had a past. It was written all over her face. It was the lack of trust in her eyes. It was the hesitant reply when Jack told her she could trust his son.

It was the little girl in his arms, no bigger than a minute and wearing a dazed look in eyes that matched her mother’s.

She whimpered a bit and Rebecca immediately moved closer, bottom lip between her teeth as she studied her daughter.

“You’re okay,” she said. The words seemed to be as much for herself as for her child.

“I’m going to put her on the couch, and if you want, you can grab the quilt off the rocking chair to cover her.” He smiled down at Allie. “You’re okay. I know it always takes me a minute to get my bearings back when I have a spell.”

Mischief lit the little girl’s eyes. “Like when you got carsick.”

He settled her on the leather sofa. “Grown men do not get carsick.”

“You did,” she said with a teasing tone. “But I won’t tell.”

“How much is it going to cost me?” he said, sitting on the coffee table not too far away from their young patient.

“Hmm,” she said, closing her eyes. “I’ll have to think about that.”

Rebecca appeared at his side, quilt in hand. She smoothed it over her child and then leaned down to kiss Allie’s forehead. “You’re okay?”

“Mom...” the child pleaded. For normalcy, Isaac realized. She didn’t want her health questioned. She wanted to run and play and didn’t want people to watch, waiting for her to have another seizure.

The back door slammed and voices drifted to the living room. Carson had arrived. And with him, Kylie. She’d been a friend to Carson when the two were teens. She’d also been a wounded warrior living on the ranch when Carson returned a little over a year ago.

“That would be my brother, our resident doctor. He’ll take good care of you.” Isaac pushed himself to his feet and gave Rebecca more room to sit with her daughter.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Allie asked.

Huddled beneath the quilt, the little girl seemed smaller. But her eyes were bright and Isaac knew she’d be just fine. He also knew she needed Carson, not him. He needed to escape, because the last thing he wanted was for her to think he was the guy she should count on.

“I’m afraid I have to go,” he told her. “I’m going to talk my sister-in-law into making me a cup of tea.”

At that moment Kylie entered the room with her husband, Isaac’s half brother. Her gaze darted from the child and her mother to Isaac. Carson took over and Isaac slipped from the room, aware of the mother in a way that he wished he wasn’t. He was conscious of her fear for her daughter, and also that she smelled like something soft and floral. He’d been cognizant of her dislike for him and he’d known when that feeling had shifted just the smallest amount.

And all of that meant he needed to mind his own business and let the others tend to Rebecca and her daughter.

Kylie followed him to the kitchen, a large room that was the center of activity for the ranch house Jack had built ten years ago. The house stood as a testament to Jack’s recovery. He’d conquered his past, overcome alcoholism and turned his life around in a way few people had expected.

Then he’d started Mercy Ranch, a place where wounded warriors could find a safe place to heal and start over. The mission and ministry had started when Jack picked Isaac up at a VA hospital. He’d looked around, seen people a lot like himself and realized he could do something for those having a hard time starting over.

The kitchen was blessedly dark, with just the dim lights over the sink for lighting. The headache appeared to be back in full force and the last thing Isaac wanted was to stand around in the sunny living room with a dozen people all talking at once.

Kylie moved quietly, scooping tea into a cup and setting a kettle on to boil. “The oil is in the cabinet,” she told him.

Her special blend of oils, made for headaches. It wasn’t a cure-all but it helped when nothing else would. He refused to continue taking prescription pain pills. He’d realized early on that genetics were a thing and he had a fear of turning into Jack. Or the man Jack had been, before conquering his addiction.

He poured a few drops of oil in his palm and applied it to his temples as he waited for the cup of tea to steep.

“How’d you find them?” Kylie asked.

“Find them?”

“The girl and her mother?” Kylie slid the tea across the counter to him.

“I was at the feed store, ordering grain, and she offered me a ride home.” He shrugged, as if it hadn’t been a big deal.

Kylie’s eyes widened. “A woman with a little girl gave a random stranger a ride?” She leaned on the counter.

“Something like that,” he offered.

“You’re not that charming,” she said.

“No, I’m not. She thought I’d been drinking and didn’t want me driving.”

Kylie chuckled. “That sounds more like it. And you were only too willing to take her up on the offer, huh?”

Isaac grabbed his cup, tipped his hat at his well-meaning sister-in-law and decided it was time to find a dark corner.

“I never took you for a coward,” she called out to his retreating back.

“I never said otherwise,” he called back to her without turning.

He pulled his sunglasses out of his pocket. With the shades in place, he headed out the back door and in the direction of the old farmhouse that Jack had remodeled for the men who called Mercy Ranch home.

The cool November air revived him a bit as he crossed the wide expanse of lawn in the direction of the two-story house that had been Jack’s when Isaac first came to live here. Or more accurately, when his mother had dumped him here at the ranch. She’d told Jack that his son was getting difficult and she’d done her time as parent.

Done her time. As if parenting had been a prison for her.

In a way, he guessed it had. She’d had to occasionally think of someone other than herself. Which meant she’d kept a supply of soup in the cabinets and he’d fended for himself while she’d been off partying with friends.

In the beginning, life with Jack hadn’t been much better. Isaac had been a rebellious preteen. Jack had been a raging, heavy on the rage, alcoholic.

Isaac sipped his tea as he walked, inhaling the bitter brew that tasted as bad as it smelled. As long as it helped the headache, he didn’t mind.

Ted, the Australian shepherd he’d brought home more than a dozen years ago, met him as he approached the house. The dog had slowed down a bit. Old age and a bad run-in with a car on the road had left the dog as gimpy as some of the men who lived at Mercy Ranch. But Ted was loyal and just about the best company Isaac knew of. As he climbed the back porch steps, he settled his hand on the dog’s dark gray head.

“They’re right about dogs being man’s best friend, Ted. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” He’d gotten the dog during his rougher-than-a-dirt-road teen years. The animal had been waiting for him when he returned from Afghanistan, wounded and angry.

“I guess that means I’m not your best friend?” Joe Lawson, another resident of the ranch, called out from the kitchen.

“You’re a friend,” Isaac responded. “But you’re kind of worthless at arm wrestling and not much of a right-hand man.”

“I never get tired of that joke,” Joe grumbled, doing a decent job of fixing a pot of coffee with his left hand. He’d lost his right arm when an IED exploded in Kabul.

“I never get tired of saying it,” Isaac responded. It was the same joke and the same comeback every day. Routine. They lived for routine.

They all had their stories. They didn’t share much of their past or even much about what had brought them to Mercy Ranch. People called them wounded warriors but they were survivors.

“Going to bed?” Joe called out as Isaac headed for the stairs.

“Yeah.”

“Bad?” the other man asked.

“Not the worst, but I’d like to head it off at the pass.”

Joe came out from behind the counter, wiping his hand on the apron that hung from his neck. Joe found therapy in cooking.

“Eve said a woman brought you home. Her little girl had a seizure.”

If there’d been a list of things, that subject would have come under the heading Last Thing in the World Isaac Wants to Discuss. But Joe knew that. And Joe didn’t care.

“I’m going to my room. Make sure no one knocks on my door.”

“Gotcha.”

He pretended he didn’t hear Joe’s laughter following him up the stairs.

* * *

“She’s fine,” Dr. Carson West assured Rebecca as he sat back in the chair he’d pulled close to the sofa.

He winked at her daughter, who had his stethoscope in her ears, listening to her own heartbeat.

Of course Allie was fine. Rebecca drew in a deep breath at his reassurance. No matter how often this happened and how many times she heard that everything would be okay, it didn’t get any easier. As a mother, she wanted to fix everything for her child. She wanted to take away the seizures, the fear, all of it.

“Has she always had them?” he asked, turning to face Rebecca.

“Five years.”

“She could outgrow this,” he offered.

“We hope she does. They’ve been happening less frequently.”

“Only twice this year.” Allie sat up a little, pulling the stethoscope from around her neck and holding it out to Carson.

“How does it sound?” he asked.

“Like normal.” Allie leaned back into the pillow and pulled the quilt up around her shoulders. “Where did Isaac go?”

Carson placed the stethoscope in his doctor bag. “He probably went to his room. When he has a headache, he’s kind of a bear to be around.”

“He carried me inside,” Allie informed him. “He seemed nice. Even if my mom did think he had been—”

“That’s enough,” Rebecca held up a hand to cut her daughter off.

“I wouldn’t suggest a long trip anytime soon,” Carson said as he returned to the topic of Allie’s health. “Let her rest up, and if you’re staying in town, I’d like to see her in a couple of days.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

Jack cleared his throat. “Where are you staying, Rebecca?”

She avoided his clear gray eyes, the eyes of a concerned parent. Why did that come to mind? And why did it bother her so much? She’d ceased missing her parents. She’d given up on any type of normal relationship with them. The last time she’d called her father, Pastor Don Barnes, he’d told her he didn’t have a daughter.

Who was she kidding? His comment had hurt. It had opened up the wounds she’d buried at eighteen when he’d disowned her. It had ached deep down because he didn’t want to meet his granddaughter.

And yet here she was, in Oklahoma and a short drive from where she’d grown up. Because even if family wanted nothing to do with her, she wanted to know they were nearby. If something happened, she wanted to know they had someone close.

She’d come to Hope to talk to Jack about the business opportunity he’d advertised nationally. Jack West was offering people free rent if they would commit to keeping their business in Hope, Oklahoma, for one year. But first he had to approve the business and the business plan.

“I thought we would have our meeting, and then I would drive to Tulsa and stay with a friend.”

“We can discuss where you’ll stay while we’re going over your business plan,” Jack continued. “We may need a few days to look over your business and I’m afraid the hotel in town is booked up. There’s a festival in Grove and the entire area is overrun with visitors. Which we aren’t going to complain about.”

“I’ll find us a place.” She smiled, looking over at Allie.

Jack’s attention slid to the girl and he winked at her. “I think you all should stay right here on the ranch.”

“We couldn’t,” Rebecca replied. Allie loved animals and anything country. But they couldn’t stay here.

“I don’t see why not,” Jack continued. “You have a briefcase that I’m sure contains a business plan. And I have a shop looking for a new owner. The only way I can connect you to that shop is if I have an opportunity to look at what you have in mind. If you need an opinion other than mine, that you need to stay put for a while, I think Carson has already given it.”

“I don’t want to take advantage of your generosity,” she told him.

“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot,” Jack said softly. “If staying here makes you feel uncomfortable I’m sure we can find somewhere else for you to stay.”

She had to be a grown-up about this.

The dog, Maximus, pushed his golden head against her leg. She stroked the soft fur and found courage. But hadn’t she been drawing on that same courage for the past year? The death of her aunt had been a difficult blow.

It had taken courage to sell their salon and leave Arizona. It had taken more courage to return to Oklahoma, where she knew she’d meet her past head-on.

For Allie’s sake she needed to make this work. For Allie she would do whatever it took. With that in mind she lifted her gaze to find Jack West watching her, his expression kind. She nodded, accepting the offer. “We’ll stay.”

Allie let out a weak shout and the dog quickly returned to her side, snuggling against her, his head resting on her shoulder. She ran a hand down his back and the dog pushed even closer.

“But we don’t want to put you to any trouble,” Rebecca added.

Jack waved off her concerns. “We have plenty of space. There’s a nice couple of rooms in the women’s dorm.”

Kylie West came in the room and laughed. “‘Women’s dorm’ is a fancy way of saying that there’s a garage that’s been remodeled and turned into apartments.”

“Nice apartments,” Jack countered.

Kylie inclined her head. “I’ll agree with that. I lived in one of those apartments for several years.”

“You don’t live here?” Rebecca asked.

“Carson and I built a house just down the road.” Kylie pulled a chair close to Rebecca’s. “There are a dozen people living on this ranch, plus family. I promise you won’t be an imposition. And it looks like Maximus is begging your little girl to stick around.”

“Thank you,” she said to Jack. “I really do appreciate this. And thank you, Dr. West, for coming over here.”

“Please, call me Carson. And if you have luggage, I’ll help get you moved to your rooms.”

Jack’s head jerked a bit as he nodded, but his smile remained bright. “And if Kylie doesn’t mind, she can take you on out to the garage and introduce you to the other ladies.”

Moments later, Kylie led Rebecca and Allie out the back door of the ranch house and across the lawn to a garage turned living quarters for the three women who lived on the ranch. There was nothing garage-like about the structure, Rebecca realized. The garage doors had been removed and the building included a covered patio.

Inside, it appeared that Jack West had designed the building with a purpose. The doors were wide, for wheelchairs, the floors were hardwood, the furniture sparse with plenty of room for easy access to the living areas and kitchen.

For the next few days they would call this place home. Allie had already hurried to the windows that overlooked stables and fields. Rebecca sighed because she knew that in three days it would be difficult to tear her daughter away from Mercy Ranch.

And it wasn’t just the ranch that would make Allie want to stay, it was the people. Especially a slightly off-balance cowboy with an easy smile and gray eyes that hinted at pain.

Chapter Three

Isaac ran a brush down the horse’s side as Ted, the Australian shepherd, snoozed on a bale of hay. Shorty stomped when the brush hit a ticklish spot. Isaac moved the brush to the animal’s back. He didn’t normally get distracted when taking care of livestock. Clearly, he knew better than to daydream while working with a horse. Even a horse like Shorty that he’d spent a good amount of time with. In the business world, Shorty would have been his partner. They’d moved a lot of cattle together, he and Shorty. They’d spent long days riding fences, doing repairs, and they’d even won a few events in cutting horse competitions.

But he was distracted. Because he’d woken up this morning to the memory of Rebecca Barnes and her daughter. He’d actually smiled as he made his morning eggs and toast. Because she’d been unexpected and had a streak of courage that he guessed most people overlooked.

Some would have called it foolishness, to approach a stranger, ask for his keys and then offer him a ride home. If he ever saw her again he’d warn her not to do that. She was fortunate that he really was just a guy needing a ride home.

If Jack gave her a building, Isaac guessed he would be seeing her again. She’d be in town, maybe around the ranch. They would be in one another’s lives.

“Is the horse ticklish?” a small voice asked from behind him.

He nearly jumped out of his skin. A grown man wouldn’t want to admit that to just anyone, but considering that whoever had said it giggled at his reaction, he wouldn’t stand a chance at denying. Doing his best to appear composed and tamping down the grin that tugged at his mouth, he faced the girl, who stood inside an empty stall, a scrawny, gray tabby kitten in her hands.

“Yep, horses are ticklish.” He pushed his hat back to get a better look at her. “You feeling up to snuff today?”

“I don’t know what that means, but I think it means I’m good. I always am. After.” Her lips drew in as she contemplated him. “Are you up to snuff?”

He laughed. “Yeah, I am.”

“Your dad says you sleep off the headaches. Does that help?”

She had a lot of questions for a little girl. The questions were bigger than she was, but he guessed with her seizures she had a maturity most nine-year-olds didn’t possess.

“Yeah, it helps. I drink tea and I sleep. Usually when I wake up I’m better.”

“Is it because of the scar on your head?”

There was no easy way to dodge these questions and no telling when she’d stop asking them.

“Yes, it’s because of the scar.”

“I don’t have any scars. My mom says sometimes kids just have seizures. And I might outgrow it.”

“That would be good.”

“Will you outgrow your headaches?” she asked, completely serious.

“I might. Does your mom know you’re out here?”

She shook her head and held tight to the kitten, which decided it might be time to make a break for it. “Did I ask too many questions? My mom says I’m nosy. I don’t think I am. I just like to know stuff, and you can’t know if you don’t ask.”

“I guess you have a good point.” He gestured at the tabby, which had started to yowl. “You might want to let that kitten go before you get scratched,” he warned.

The kitten jumped free and scampered sideways out of the stall, hissing as it ran for cover at the other end of the stable. Allie stepped out in turn and watched it make its escape.

“I was going to name him Stripe.” She let out a big sigh.

“I’m sure he won’t mind a name.”

She frowned. “Yeah, but now he’s gone. I’ve never had a cat before. We couldn’t have pets at our apartment in Arizona.”

He beat down the desire to ask his own questions. Questions were dangerous. Because they resulted in answers and that meant knowing a little too much about people.

The young person standing in front of him seemed to be making a valiant attempt to fight tears. If she hadn’t looked sad he wouldn’t have handed her the horse brush. As much as he didn’t consider himself to be a kid person, he’d kind of grown fond of smaller humans since Carson had shown up with his two. Maggie and Andy were as cute as two kids could be. This one seemed the same. She was smart and funny, and when a tear trickled down her cheek she dashed it away with an aggravated flick of a finger.