Roping the Rancher (Harlequin American Romance) (16 page)

“This is much better than the last time you carried me off.”

“You’ve got to admit you were a pain in the ass then.”

“You sure know how to sweet-talk a girl.”

He stopped on the stairs and kissed her long and hard, like a man who thought he was drowning and she was the lifeline he’d just latched on to. “I’m a little out of practice.”

“You could have fooled me.” She slid her hand inside his shirt. Her nails skimmed over his skin sending pleasure bursting through him. He raced up the remaining stairs and into his bedroom.

He tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he placed her on his bed, but the damned thing wouldn’t budge. Earlier when Maggie announced the film only had two more days until they wrapped up, he’d wanted to grab Stacy and kiss her until she agreed to stay, because he couldn’t bear the thought of her leaving.

Then she’d changed her mind, deciding to stick around for a little longer. He’d gotten a reprieve.

Now he needed to make the most of his time with her.

She held out her arms to him and as he joined her, he forgot everything but her and the pleasure they could find in each other’s arms.

* * *

T
WO
DAYS
LATER
when Maggie called cut, pride over her accomplishment washed over Stacy. Seeing life here through Colt’s eyes, becoming a part of Ryan’s therapy team had given her insight into her character. Drawing on those things and the connections she now felt to the land and the people around her elevated her performance. No doubt about it, she’d done her best work ever in this movie.

“Filming on
The Women of Spring Creek Ranch
is done! Can you believe it?”

Maggie went on to thank the cast and crew for all their hard work. When everyone started leaving, Maggie approached Stacy and asked to speak to her alone. “The early buzz about the movie is better than I could’ve ever hoped for. Don’t tell anyone, but John Hammond and I are developing a script for a pilot to pitch to the network.”

A little flutter raced through Stacy. Hammond had developed more than a few top-rated shows over the years. His latest remained solidly in the top ten ratingswise.

No, she refused to hope. People pitched series all the time and only the tiniest fraction made it to filming a pilot. An even smaller portion got on the air.

“That’s wonderful. I know how much it would mean to you to shoot a series here.”

“The traveling isn’t a problem now because Michaela can come with us, but this is home.”

Yes, it was.

“We both know how tough it is to get a series on the air, but I wanted to mention it to you so you could think about it. I can’t see anyone else in your role, Stacy. When we get the script done, can I send it to you?”

“Of course.”

“Having a bankable star on board would definitely help our pitch with the network.”

Maggie’s comment shook Stacy. Three months ago she’d struggled to get auditions for A status roles and now she was considered “bankable” enough to impress the network. The entertainment industry could make a girl lightheaded from that quick a climb.

Then the implications of Maggie doing a series sank in and sent thoughts spinning through Stacy’s head. A series meant a consistent income. The stability of being in one place, being able to have a predictable home life without worrying about location shoots.

And this series would be shot in Estes Park and eliminate the long-distance relationship factor for her and Colt. Not that he’d given her any indication that he wanted anything more than a casual relationship with her, but that could change in the next few weeks.

Despite knowing she shouldn’t hope because that’s how she got hurt, Stacy found herself doing just that as she returned to her trailer. Maybe this once fate would cut her a break.

Once inside her trailer, Stacy pulled out her duffel bag to pack up her personal items. She lifted the intricate silver frame containing the picture one of the crew had snapped of her and her father dressed in fifteenth-century finery their first day on the movie set. Her finger traced the surface. What would her father think of Colt? She liked to think he would approve. That he’d say as long as Colt made her happy and was there for her he was pleased. As she placed the photo in her bag, she couldn’t help but think how different her life would’ve been if her father had lived.

Andrea would have someone else to rely on, and I would have had my freedom years ago.

As she packed up her makeup, her cell phone caught her eye. She had three missed calls from her mother and three corresponding voice mails waiting. She massaged the knot in her neck and wondered what her mother wanted now.

She listened to the first message. “Grant doesn’t love me. He’s having an affair with a young actress. He filed for divorce.”

Her mother’s voice grew more frantic in the next message. “Why haven’t you called me? I need you, Stacy. I always thought you’d be there for me no matter what. That I could count on you.”

Stacy’s hands shook as she listened to the last message. “I don’t know how I can live without Grant. If I’m gone when you get home, please explain things to Ryan.”

Gone?
She hadn’t heard her mother sound that desperate in years. Since Allan, her second husband, left her. Andrea couldn’t be thinking of what it sounded like. Her mother wouldn’t commit suicide, would she? Her hand trembling, Stacy punched in Andrea’s number and prayed she wasn’t too late. The phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times before her mother answered.

“Stacy? Why didn’t you call sooner?”

“I’m sorry. We were wrapping up filming, and I didn’t have my phone with me.”

“I can’t bear losing Grant.” Andrea’s voice broke. “I don’t do well living alone.”

“You’ll get through this. It won’t be easy, but you can do it.”

“I miss your father so much. I want to be with him again.” By the time Andrea finished her sentence, her words had started to slur.

“Mom, have you taken something?”

“A couple of Xanax. I’m so tired.”

Panic, hot and sharp, bolted through Stacy. “How many did you take?”

“Only a couple.”

Buzzing sounded in Stacy’s ears. Her mind started to spin. The weight she’d been carrying since her father died crushed her. She started shaking. A chill spread through her as something inside her broke. Maybe if she got cold enough, numb enough, she wouldn’t hurt. She didn’t want to feel anything because the agony squeezing her heart right now was going to kill her.

“I’m almost positive I didn’t take more than a couple.”

Andrea’s voice pulled Stacy out of her haze. She had to find someone to stay with her mom until she got there. “Don’t take any more pills and don’t drink any alcohol. I’m going to call Bethany to take you to the hospital and I’ll be on the first flight I can get.”

“Okay. I can’t wait until you come home, Stacy. You’ll help me, won’t you?”

After she reassured her mother, Stacy called Bethany, Andrea’s best friend, who promised she’d get her to the hospital and stay with her until Stacy arrived. Then she booked seats for her and Ryan on the first flight from Denver to L.A., and texted her brother that she was leaving to pick him up at school. Minutes later when he climbed into the car, she updated him on the situation with their mother. “So we’re heading home sooner than we planned.”

“I should’ve talked to you about this before now, but I’m not going back.”

She struggled to absorb the blows he’d delivered. She wasn’t strong enough to fight him right now. Not when she was concerned about her mother. Not when she was being torn apart over having to leave Colt.

“Our mother’s on the verge of suicide. If you don’t come back it might push her over the edge.”

“She won’t kill herself. She’s too selfish to do that.”

“Are you willing to take the risk? I’m not.” When he remained stubbornly silent, she said, “We’re all the family she has. That’s where our home is.”

The words rang hollow in her ears. Home? California didn’t feel much like home anymore. No, she definitely couldn’t call it home anymore.

Because Colt wasn’t there.

She couldn’t think about that now. If she thought about leaving Colt she’d fall apart.

“That’s not where my life is. I’m happy here. I’ve got more friends, hell, better friends, than I ever had in California.” He crossed his arms over his chest, and his hard green eyes flared with teenage defiance. “I’ll ask Colt if I could move in with him and Jess. She and I have talked about it. She thinks her dad will be fine with the idea.”

“He won’t agree to it if I’m not okay with it,” she tossed back.

“I’ll go to court and get emancipated. Since I’ll be eighteen in ten months it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Why are you doing this?” She loved him so much and had practically raised him. Couldn’t Ryan see how he was destroying her?

“Why are you rushing back to her? What’s she ever done for us other than give birth to us?”

“She’s our mother. We’re family and sometimes being part of a family requires making sacrifices.”

“But we’re always the ones doing the sacrificing.” He stared out the window. Though he sat beside her in the passenger seat, he felt so far away. “I’ll do whatever I have to so I can stay here. I have the right to be happy. I won’t go back.”

For the majority of Ryan’s life she’d told herself she’d wanted her brother to have choices she never had, but now that he could choose to stay in Estes Park when she couldn’t, jealousy mixed with white-hot anger tore her apart. Granted Andrea wouldn’t ever win parent of the year, but didn’t they both owe her something? They couldn’t leave her to fall apart.

Stacy didn’t have time for a knock-down, drag-out fight with him, especially one she wasn’t strong enough to survive. Ryan had to go back to California with her because she couldn’t cope with Andrea and her problems alone. She needed someone to listen, someone who understood what she was going through, someone to hold her together, but how could she convince Ryan?

She probably couldn’t, but Colt could. She pulled into the nearest parking lot, turned around and headed for Colt’s ranch. “We’ll see what Colt has to say about this.”

* * *

“I’
M
COMING
. H
OLD
on,” Colt called out as he made his way to the front door. “Quit ringing the blasted doorbell. You’re giving me a headache.”

He yanked open the door and found Stacy standing there, her face drawn, her arms crossed over her chest, fire blazing in her eyes. “You’ve got to talk to Ryan. My mom’s threatening to commit suicide, and he’s in the car refusing to go back to California with me. He thinks he can move in here with you and Jess. Tell him he can’t live here.”

His head spun from the verbal assault she’d just hurled at him. Her mother threatened to commit suicide? What the hell had happened? Then add Ryan with his teenage dander up and no wonder she was spitting mad. Considering their moods, he bet neither one of them was listening to the other. It’s a wonder they arrived at the ranch in one piece. He walked past Stacy, strode over to the car and rapped on the passenger window.

Ryan rolled down the window. Attitude and teenage defiance rolled off him in waves. “What?”

“Join Jess in the kitchen.”

When the teenager opened his mouth, Colt shook his head. “Don’t say anything. We’ll work this out, but you and your sister need to calm down first.”

Ryan got out of the car, slammed the door hard enough to make Colt’s teeth rattle and stormed up to the house. He clomped past his sister leaning on his cane without even looking in her direction.

“Wait a minute. Come back here,” Stacy yelled at her brother.

“Let him go.”

Stacy clutched his arms. Her nails dug into his skin. “Tell him he can’t move in here. Tell him it’s his duty to come with me.”

“We need to talk first. Tell me what happened.”

She told him about her mother’s voice mails and their conversation. The more he listened, the angrier he became at her mother. Lord. What kind of woman leaves a message for her daughter saying she’s going to commit suicide and blames it on her child for not “being there” for her? The woman could teach Catholic nuns a thing or two about imposing guilt on others.

Knowing his anger wouldn’t help Stacy, he stuffed the emotion down. Though he wanted to scoop her into his arms, hold her and tell her everything would be all right, he knew that wasn’t what she needed right now, either. She was wound too tight and holding on by a thread. Her gaze held the same glazed and frenzied look he’d seen in green soldiers’ eyes the first time they came under fire.

Remaining factual and detached was the best way to go. That and helping her sort through what to do. So instead of holding her, he clasped her hand and led her into the living room where he settled onto the couch and patted the spot beside him. She shook her head, refusing to sit and started pacing instead.

“I’m so tired of holding what little family I have together. When my dad died, my mother crawled into a hole. Ryan was so little then. On the nanny’s day off Andrea let him cry in his crib. I was the one who went to him. Later, I was the one he ran to when he fell down. Not our mother. She was too busy trying to snag a husband or keep one the one she’d caught.”

“You raised him.”

“That’s why his wanting to stay here hurts so bad. I can’t lose him. He’s all I have.”

You have me.
The words almost jumped out, but now wasn’t the time to talk about how he felt. She had enough to think about with Ryan and her mom. He refused to add to her emotional turmoil. “This isn’t what you want to hear, but you can’t force Ryan to go back to California.”

Her expressive face tightened with anger as she circled his living room. “You’re right. I don’t want to hear that.”

“I won’t lie to you to make you feel better because that won’t do you any good. If you push him too hard you risk making him even more determined. He’ll do the opposite of what you want just to prove you can’t force him to do anything. That’s where you’re headed by playing this game of chicken. I found that out the hard way. I almost lost Jess when I went to Afghanistan.”