The Rancher's Second Chance (Martin's Crossing Book 3) (2 page)

She took a bite of egg. The dog came to sit on the floor next to her. The white bit of fluff stood on its hind legs and begged. She tossed it a piece of egg.

“Where did you get the dog?” she asked, hoping to ease the tension between them. “A Maltese? She isn’t really the kind of dog I pictured a bull-riding cowboy to have.”

“I’m not a bull rider anymore. I’m just a guy living on a ranch, running some cattle with my brothers.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know what else to say. She knew he’d wanted to be a world champion. She knew about dreams and how they drove a person. She’d dreamed of seeing a little more of the country before settling down into the rest of her life.

He’d had other dreams he’d shared with her. He’d wanted to find the mother who’d walked out on them. He didn’t want to be a man who gave up the way his dad had. He rarely talked about how his mom’s abandonment had affected him, but it was there, not so far beneath the surface. He had a hard time trusting.

He cleared his throat and tossed the dog a piece of bacon.

“I got the dog at the grocery store in Austin. She was thin and her hair was matted. The guy who had her wanted twenty bucks. I couldn’t leave her.” It was easier for him to talk about the dog than about bull riding.

That unwillingness to leave a stray was why she’d come here. Because as hard as he tried to be coldhearted, he wasn’t. He couldn’t leave behind a stray. He would never leave a friend to suffer.

“Brody, for what it’s worth, I am sorry.”

“I’m sure you are.” He gave her a pointed look, his gaze lingering on her bruised face.

“I’ll go. After I eat, I’ll leave.”

He slid his plate to the side. “Where would you go, Grace? Your parents are out of the country. What’s your plan?”

She shrugged, aching inside because she didn’t have a plan. She’d taken off in the middle of the night knowing she needed to put miles between herself and Lincoln. She hadn’t really planned on coming here. But when she’d put her car in gear, she’d found herself on the road to Martin’s Crossing.

“We’ll figure something out.”

With that he got up, cleared the plates and fed the scraps to the dog that was dancing around the kitchen. On hind legs, her toenails painted pink and a bow pinned between her ears, she was the last dog on earth Grace would ever expect Brody Martin to own.

For a long while Brody busied himself at the sink washing dishes. He kept his back to her, his attention focused on the plates he washed and the window over the sink. He probably expected Lincoln to show up anytime. But she’d taken the battery out of his truck, so it would take him a while.

A second wave of nausea hit, taking her by surprise. Grace ran for the bathroom and this time she didn’t shut the door. As she lost her breakfast, Brody appeared at her side. He didn’t say anything. A moment later she heard water running, then felt a cool cloth settle over the back of her neck.

Brody’s hand rested on her shoulder. He didn’t stay at her side, though. She heard his booted footsteps going down the hall, away from her. She pulled the cloth off her neck and wiped her face free of tears.

When she returned to the kitchen he was sitting at the table, his leg propped up on the empty chair. He had a cup of coffee in his hands and the dog on his lap.

“So how far along are you?” His gaze brushed down her body, lingering on the loose button-up shirt she’d pulled on over her T-shirt.

Grace leaned against the counter and tried to shift her focus from his face, from the disappointment she would see. Emotions clogged her throat, making it hard to speak. She rubbed hands down cheeks that felt warm and took a deep breath.

“About four months,” she admitted, shifting her focus from the living room with worn leather furniture to the man sitting in front of her.

“I see.” Brody brushed a hand through his dark hair. “I guess he knows and isn’t too happy?”

“No, he isn’t.” It hurt too much to think about the clinic Lincoln had driven her to in another state. They’d sat in the parking lot for an hour as he’d tried to talk her in to making a choice she didn’t want to make. In the end she’d refused. He’d been angry, but he hadn’t seen a way to force her into the building.

She’d ended their relationship that day. But Lincoln kept coming back.

“We need to find you a place to stay.”

Because he wouldn’t let her stay with him. That went without saying. “Brody, I hope someday you’ll forgive me.”

“Me, too.” He said it so quietly that she had to lean in to catch the words. He limped to the living room and grabbed keys and his cell phone off the table. “Let’s go.”

On the way out the door he grabbed his hat, shoving it down tight on his head.

She followed him out the door to his truck. Rain was still coming down, heavy and cool. He opened the passenger side door for her and she slid in. Without asking he reached for the seat belt and pulled it across her lap. As if she was five years old and couldn’t do it for herself.

The movement put them too close, and that was the last thing either of them needed. “I can do it, Brody.”

“Yeah, I guess you can.”

She clicked the seat belt in place and reached to close the door. Just then, a truck came up the drive and parked. Brody limped to the vehicle and his brother Jake got out. The other man studied her for a moment, then resumed his conversation with Brody. She’d met Brody’s brothers a time or two at different events. She doubted they knew much about her, other than her name.

The two men continued to talk, acting as if they didn’t notice the rain that soaked their clothes, dripped off their hats.

Jake Martin said something else to Brody. Brody raised a hand in a wave that became a salute. Grace knew the brothers were close. They’d raised each other and saved this ranch together. She also knew that having two older brothers sometimes got under Brody’s skin.

Finally, he joined her in the truck, grumbling about older brothers who should stay out of his business. He jerked off his hat, tossed it in the backseat of his truck and brushed a hand through damp hair that formed loose curls. The tan skin of his face, stretched taught over lean cheeks and a strong jawline, was damp. He raised his arm and used his sleeve to wipe away the moisture.

“I don’t want to cause you problems with your brothers.”

“You aren’t causing me any problems. They can’t think of me as an adult.”

She knew better. “No, they can’t stand to see you hurt by the woman who cheated on you.”

“They don’t know about you. About us.” He started the truck and eased out of the driveway. “I think I know where you can stay.”

He didn’t expand on that. Details weren’t Brody’s thing. She’d just have to trust him. Who else did she have?

And right now she had someone pretty tiny trusting her to make the right choices for them both.

Chapter Two

T
hey drove to town in the pouring rain he’d wanted to avoid. The wipers swished in a continuous effort to keep the windshield clear. Brody slid a quick glance at the woman sitting next to him. She’d been quiet since leaving the ranch. Now he knew why. She’d fallen sound asleep, her hand on her slightly rounded belly.

He shook his head, trying not to think of the baby or the bruises on her face. The first made him a little queasy. The second made him so angry he couldn’t see straight.

Even after what she’d done to him, he still cared. That made him a little bit mad at her, a lot mad at himself. He could help her out. He could forgive. But he wasn’t going to let himself get tangled up with her again.

It didn’t take long to reach their destination. Brody pulled to a stop in front of Oregon’s All Things shop. Across the street at Duke’s No Bar and Grill the lights were on and the open sign was lit up. A handful of cars and trucks were parked out front, people getting an early start on their day with breakfast at his older brother’s restaurant.

After a few minutes the front door of the diner opened. Duke, tall and imposing and a little scary if a guy didn’t know him, stepped out on the front porch. He greeted the few people who were brave enough to sit outside under the awning on a rainy morning. When he saw Brody he nodded and headed down the steps.

Brody got out of the truck and met his brother on the sidewalk in front of Oregon’s. Duke and Oregon were going to be married in December. She was living in a cottage on the ranch while Duke completed remodeling the old farm house that had belonged to their grandfather. Their daughter, Lilly, bounced from house to house, wanting to spend time with both of them.

“What’s going on?” Duke peered in the tinted windows of the truck. “Is that Grace Thomas?”

“Yeah.” Brody held out his hand for the keys Duke had in his hand.

“Not so quick, little brother.” Duke took a step closer to the truck. “What happened?”

“Lincoln.” The one word brought anger to the surface all over again.

“Is that why you came home last year?” Duke tossed the keys in the air, then caught them. He didn’t take his eyes off Brody. Brody did his best not to squirm.

“Part of the reason. She needs a place to stay.”

“Somewhere that Lincoln can’t find her?”

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t think he’d bother looking here.” Brody didn’t want to waste time discussing it. He wanted to haul her into Oregon’s, then get back to the ranch and get to work. For the first time in a long while he’d prefer Jake to Duke. He’d prefer all day in the saddle to five minutes alone with Grace.

“I don’t know if I want you putting Lilly and Oregon in danger.”

“Duke, she doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Yeah, I get that. But Lincoln is going to come looking for her, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, I reckon, but he won’t think to look here. He’ll come to my place.”

Duke headed up the sidewalk with the key. “Brody, you can’t save the whole world.”

He didn’t want to save the whole world. But saving Grace was something he had to do. He couldn’t turn her away. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t care.

“Doesn’t she have family she can turn to?” Duke asked as he unlocked the back door of Oregon’s, which led to the small apartment at the rear of the shop.

“They’re all out-of-pocket right now. Parents and grandparents are in the mission field and her aunt is in Florida.”

“Gotcha.” Duke flipped on lights and turned on the air conditioner. “I hate to ask, but are you sure you want to do this?”

“I don’t have a choice.” But if he was being honest with himself, getting tied in with Grace was the last thing he wanted.

“Right, okay.” Duke didn’t question him further. He went upstairs and came back with a blanket and a pillow. “I’d put her on the sofa for now.”

Brody agreed. He walked out the door and down the sidewalk to his truck. She was still sleeping. She’d pulled her legs up in the seat and her arms hugged her waist. He opened the door and said her name. She murmured something soft that ended on a sigh.

“Great.” He shook his head and reached in to wake her. She leaned toward him, her eyes still closed. Brody slid an arm around her shoulders and another under her legs. There wasn’t much to her. He pulled her against him and stepped out of the truck, holding her tight as he made his way back up the sidewalk.

Blond hair lifted in the breeze and brushed his face. He inhaled the sweet apple scent of her shampoo. She smelled good. And she was easy to hold.

But he’d do himself some favors by remembering who she was, what she had done to him. Duke had the door open as Brody made his way back to the apartment. He shot a big-brother look at the woman in Brody’s arms and then noticed the left leg that Brody couldn’t quite manage to lift. Duke shook his head but didn’t say anything.

Brody eased the sleeping woman to the sofa and covered her with the blanket. She curled on her side and her hand reached out. He stepped back away from her. A good five feet between them made him feel a lot better.

“Well, that looks like one hundred pounds of serious trouble,” Duke chuckled. He pounded Brody on the back. “Go with God, little brother. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.”

“Thanks.” Brody sat down in the easy chair and propped his booted feet up on the coffee table. He ignored the warning look Duke gave him.

“What are you going to tell Lincoln when he comes looking for her?” Duke leaned against the door frame. He glanced out, toward the restaurant, then back at Brody.

“I guess I’ll tell him she doesn’t want to see him.”

“Well, call if you need anything.” And by anything, he meant help handling Lincoln Carter.

Hard to believe he and Lincoln once had been best friends. They’d both been working toward the same goal: to be world-champion bull riders. They’d won a lot of money. They’d traveled the country together. Last fall it all had changed. One year ago, Brody realized.

“Thanks for the help, Duke. I appreciate it.” Brody tipped up his hat, making steady eye contact with his brother, who still stood in the doorway watching him.

“That’s what family is for. I’d best get back to the breakfast crowd or Ned is going to hunt me down.”

Brody smiled. Ned, short for Nedine, was a big lady with graying auburn hair and a gruff demeanor, but she was all heart. Duke said she was the best waitress in the state. He told her that often. Especially after he’d ruffled her feathers.

Duke left, and Brody leaned back in the chair and tried to relax. Unfortunately he was all too aware of the woman just feet away from him. Aware of her soft breathing. The quiet sob in her sleep. It all pulled him toward her in a way he hadn’t expected and didn’t want. He just should have called the police when she’d shown up. He should send her to friends. There were other people she could have gone to.

So why him?

To torment him, he guessed. The only one who could control that was him. He would take control now before he got too far in. He’d keep her at a distance. He’d remember how it felt to have his heart trampled. Memories resurfaced, and not the ones he wanted. Of course he didn’t remember the night when he’d rounded the corner of his trailer and saw her with Lincoln. Instead, he remembered how it had felt to hold her in his arms.

He rubbed his hands down his cheeks and shook his head. Heartache, pain, disillusionment—he drew all the memories in and let them simmer as he looked at the woman asleep on the couch, her face bruised by the fist of another man.

He waited until he heard Oregon show up, then he made his way into the section of the building where her store was located. Oregon had a talent for making things. She made clothes, hand-painted Christmas ornaments and jewelry. He didn’t know much about her art, but he knew enough to be impressed.

When he walked through the door, she turned from the shelf she was straightening and smiled at him. She was a tiny thing with dark hair and big gray eyes. And her daughter, Lilly, was the spitting image of Duke.

“I heard I have a visitor.” She moved some things around, then settled her serious gaze on him. “You okay?”

“I’m good. She isn’t. Do you mind if she stays here for a while?”

“Of course not.” Oregon pointed to the coffeepot on the shelf behind the counter. “Need a cup?”

“No, I thought I’d go help Jake.”

She narrowed her eyes to study him. “Really?”

“What?”

“You’ve avoided horses like most people avoid snakes.”

He shrugged and didn’t offer explanations. He hadn’t offered an explanation to anyone about anything. He’d lived his life that way, because from the time he’d been a kid everyone had told him to put on his big-boy jeans and get over it. He’d gotten over his mom walking out on them. He’d gotten over his dad drinking his life away. And whatever he was feeling inside, he kept it to himself. For the most part.

As Duke had told him a long time ago, they all had stuff they had to deal with.

“He asked me to help him out today. I know Duke is at the restaurant. I don’t want to leave Jake shorthanded.”

She dropped her gaze to his leg the way Duke had. “Should you be riding?”

“Yep. So can you let her know where I’ve gone?”

“Yes, I’ll let her know.”

Brody started to walk away but stopped. “If a guy with straw-colored hair and a big grin shows up here asking for her, tell him you don’t know who he’s talking about.”

Worry clouded her features. “I will. Brody, are you sure you should...”

“Yeah, I should.”

He walked away before she could guess he wasn’t as sure as he acted.

* * *

Lincoln chased her through the dark, his face a mask of anger and cruelty. Grace ran but her legs were tired and heavy, and it was hard to breathe. Then suddenly they were in a clinic, and Lincoln told her in quiet, reassuring tones that it was the right choice. She shook her head, knowing he was wrong and that she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t take the life growing inside her. It was her baby. Hers to love. Hers to protect.

Grace woke up with a start. She wasn’t in a clinic. She was—she didn’t know where she was. Somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered being picked up from Brody’s truck, his arms around her. It was the first time she’d felt safe in months.

It was true. A person always wanted what they knew they couldn’t have. She happened to be the poster child for that. She hadn’t wanted Brody when she’d dated him because she’d thought it was all moving too fast, getting too serious too soon. She’d wanted freedom and excitement before she had to go home and get back to reality.

In the past few months her reality had shifted, changed to the point she no longer knew what her future held or how to get back to the person she was or the person she’d always thought she’d be.

She pulled the blanket close as she studied the room. It was a tiny apartment, not much bigger than the bedroom she’d had growing up. The sofa she’d slept on and an overstuffed chair were the only furnishings. The small kitchen area was just a counter with a narrow stove, single sink and a dorm-size fridge. Stairs behind the sofa led to a loft.

The inside door opened and a woman with dark hair peeked in, saw that she was awake and entered the room with a smile. She held up a glass coffeepot. “You’re awake. Need coffee?”

Grace shook her head, still holding the blanket tight. “No, thank you. I’m trying to cut back.”

Because she was having a baby. Her heart clenched and she wanted to cry all over again. She drew in a deep breath and managed to smile so the woman in front of her wouldn’t think she was falling apart.

The woman sat on the arm of the chair and set the coffeepot down on a magazine on the table. She studied Grace, her smile kind. “You’ll make it through this.”

Grace wanted to ask if this stranger could promise that. Instead, she managed a smile. “I hope so.”

“You will. And you’ll learn a lot about yourself. By the way, I’m Oregon Jeffries. I’m engaged to Brody’s brother Duke.”

“Grace Thomas. But you probably already know that.”

“Brody did tell me your name. But he didn’t tell me anything else. He keeps things to himself.”

Grace nodded. Yes, that was the Brody she knew. She thought about how she used to try to get him to share gossip about people they met. But he never would. Instead, he’d told her everyone had a story and most didn’t need to be repeated. Brody had his anger, his past, but he also had faith. He had convictions. The whole package that was Brody Martin had scared her a little. Oregon cleared her throat, bringing Grace back to the present.

“Sorry, I got lost in thought.” Grace said. “Is it going to cause you problems, having me here? I wouldn’t want to put you in danger.”

“Of course you’re not a problem. As for danger, Duke is right across the street.”

“Thank you.” Grace looked around the tiny room. She felt safe here.

“Is there anything at all I can get you?”

Grace thought about all of the possible answers to that question. If only this woman, Oregon, could get her what she really needed. She’d start with redoing the past year. That would put her back on track. She’d go back to nursing school. She’d ignore Lincoln’s advances. She’d make better choices.

She would remember the person she’d been raised to be. She’d done her best to run from the gilded cage she’d been in all her life. She’d thought that cage confining. Now she realized it had been safe.

But there were no do-overs in life, only opportunities to move forward. “There’s nothing.”

“Lunch?” Oregon offered with a sweet smile and shrug of slim shoulders. “A hug?”

She almost cried. It made her realize how alone she’d felt for the past few months. She’d climbed inside herself, hiding the secret of Lincoln’s abuse from people who could have helped. She’d lost pieces of herself one bruise at a time. She would put herself back together. For her baby. And for herself.

She moved her hand to her belly.

Oregon moved to the sofa. A slim arm slipped around Grace, pulling her close to the other woman’s side. “It’ll get better. I know people love to use the phrase, ‘I’ve been there.’ But I really have. I had Duke’s child twelve years ago. I was younger than you and very alone.”