A Reunion For The Rancher

“Because he thinks my brother is a thief. Because his family discarded me like trash. Because...”

Iva did the eyebrow arch this time. Ruby didn’t want to see how much she resembled her grandmother in that gesture.

“I know they hurt you. But I also know that you and Carson never talked about all of that. The check. His sister. It’s all in the past, but it’s also been buried and has been festering for a dozen years. Neither of you has moved on. Neither of you has gotten over being mad at the other.”

“I think we have moved on. I got a job in Oklahoma. He’s running the family ranch.”

“Yes, you’ve moved on. But it’s like running in place. Neither of you has gotten anywhere.”

“Gran...”

Her grandmother pushed herself to her feet. “Oh, Ruby, stop worrying. It’s just lunch and it might not happen for weeks. Or ever.”

“Yes, just lunch.” With a man she’d once loved. A man she’d thought she would marry.

A man who was still kind and caring. She knew he’d helped her grandmother. Now she knew he was willing to care for a nephew. She knew he cared about his community.

She wanted to paint him as the villain, but she couldn’t. She knew him. And knowing him made him even more dangerous.

Chapter Four (#ulink_cec2cdd3-03db-5b7f-96d0-14b32b7afd55)

On Saturday morning Carson headed to town with Brandon in tow. And Brandon in tow was easier said than done. Even though it was only nine in the morning he’d already done a good day’s work. With his nephew tagging along, it had been double duty. Especially when by eight the kid in question had managed to open a gate and let out a few horses. He’d caught the wild barn cat and managed to get scratched up good. And then he’d turned on the water in the bathroom and left it running.

As he drove Carson tossed his hat on the truck seat and brushed a hand through his hair. He cast a sideways look at the little boy and shook his head. The kid was almost asleep. And sleeping he looked pretty innocent. Cute, even. Carson felt the corner of his mouth tug up. Yeah, he wasn’t a bad kid. He just hadn’t had a lot of structure with Jenna.

This morning he’d asked Carson when his mommy was coming back. Carson shook his head at that, because he didn’t have an answer. He’d even tried to call his sister. She hadn’t answered.

Carson pulled up to Maggie’s Coffee Shop, grinning because not too long ago someone had stopped in town thinking to find one of those fancy city coffee places, not realizing a coffee shop was a diner with biscuits and gravy, strong coffee in a mug and maybe chicken fried steak for a lunch special.

“Ready for breakfast?” he asked his half-asleep nephew.

Brandon perked up. “Yeah. Pancakes, please!”

“You got it.”

He got out of the truck and motioned Brandon across, to get out on his side. The boy grabbed his own white cowboy hat and, with a grin, pushed it down on his head. He looked up at Carson, happy again and wide-awake. Together they walked up the sidewalk to Maggie’s. The place was packed, as he’d expected on a Saturday morning. Town was packed. He’d seen a dozen cars at Big Jim’s grocery store, and a half-dozen cars lined up at the pumps of the gas station. He guessed it was the nice weather. People wanted to get out and enjoy weather that was cool after a summer that had felt like they lived in a furnace.

He knew what to expect when he walked through the door of Maggie’s. A couple dozen men would be drinking coffee and solving the world’s problems. And a few would be trying to solve the thefts that had been hitting their community.

“Hey, Carson,” Ben Stillwater from the Stillwater ranch called out and motioned to an empty chair at their table.

A table with Byron McKay and his twin boys, Winston and Gareth. The boys were sixteen and fortunately didn’t look much like their dad. They both had strawberry blond hair like him but favored their momma otherwise, and they had that look of too much money and not enough responsibility.

Ben Stillwater was a twin, too. His identical twin, Grady, was in the army and stationed in Afghanistan. Ben had stayed home to rodeo and continue running the Stillwater ranch. They were identical, but that didn’t mean they were exactly alike.

“Who do you have with you?” Ben asked, reaching for a chair at a nearby table and placing it next to him. “Is this Jenna’s almost grown son?”

Brandon grinned and took the seat next to Ben. “I’m five.”

“I reckon you are.” Ben shot Carson a questioning look that he could only answer with a shrug of a shoulder.

Carson took the other empty chair and turned over the coffee cup sitting in front of him. The waitress, Sally Ann, only worked Saturdays. She smiled at the two of them as she hurried their way with coffee and menus.

“What are you all having today, Carson?”

“I’ll take the Saturday-morning special and Brandon would like pancakes and bacon. And to drink he’ll take—”

“Chocolate milk,” Brandon shouted.

Next to Carson, Ben laughed. “He’s going to keep you on your toes, my friend.”

“Yeah, I guess he will.”

Brandon gave Carson a look and then he turned to Ben. “I don’t think he can get on his toes. And Ruby is going to take him down a notch.”

Ben laughed loud and long. People turned to stare. Carson shot him a look, hoping to quell his mirth.

“That’s about the best thing I’ve heard in a long time.” Ben held his hand up. “Give me a fiver, little man.”

Brandon grinned and slapped his palm against Ben’s. Carson turned away from the two, hoping that would keep Ben from asking questions about Ruby and how Brandon would have heard her say anything about him.

The conversation across the table between Byron and another rancher caught Carson’s attention. He sipped his coffee and listened to the coffee shop gossip.

The foreman for the Marley ranch, a spread on the other side of town, came in and sat at the table next to theirs.

“Is it true you all got hit last night?” Byron asked as he shoveled a big bite of eggs into his mouth.

“Yeah, ten head and they burned a few bales of hay. That’s leading me to believe we don’t have professional cattle thieves on our hands. Professionals don’t light up a blaze to let everyone know they’re around.”

“Professionals don’t keep hitting small and taking things that don’t really matter,” Ben interjected as he cut up his biscuits and gravy.

The waitress showed up with Carson and Brandon’s food. She refilled his coffee, placed the bill next to his plate and took a second to talk to the little boy in their midst. He was eyeing pancakes heaped with butter, chocolate chips and syrup.

“Byron, have you all seen Betsy since her daddy died?” Ben asked, always being the one willing to wade right into troubled waters.

Brandon, only five but not oblivious to tension, looked up, watching the men at the table. Carson sighed, wishing Ben had left well enough alone. Byron and his cousin Mac McKay had never been close. Mac had run his small farm, but that hadn’t been enough to pay the bills. And when it all had come crashing in, when he’d needed the help of a relative, Byron had turned him down flat.

No one wanted to dwell on the night Mac, in a drunken stupor, had walked in front of a car. Betsy, his only child, had left town. Eighteen and on her own. Carson liked to think there were folks in town, himself included, who would have helped her out had she stayed. He only wished Mac would have taken his offer of help.

“Betsy isn’t my problem,” Byron blustered. That brought Carson back to the conversation. “The girl is just like her dad. She isn’t going to get anything out of life if she isn’t willing to work for it. I didn’t give Mac handouts and I won’t give her any.”

“She’s a kid,” Winston McKay spoke softly from his chair just a few seats down the table. He glanced at his dad and went back to eating.

The two boys looked at each other. Meaningful looks. Carson watched, interested, and his opinion of the two boys came up a notch.

Byron didn’t seem to share his opinion. “If I find out you two have been helping her, you will find out what it’s like to not have anything.”

Ben cleared his throat. “Let’s take it down a notch. We’ve got a little cowboy here trying to eat his breakfast. And I’d like to enjoy mine.”