A Rancher's Pride Read online

  Not that there were a lot to be found on this tiny stretch of so-called civilization in the middle of nowhere. And, other than the grass around Town Hall and the cactus plants in the water troughs, she hadn’t seen much of anything green. Of course, in all honesty, there wasn’t much vegetation in her urban neighborhood back home, either.

  Still wearing that mocking smile, Sam looked over at her again. “You must not get out much, if you think this is the wild West. Anyhow, the Double S isn’t a bar. It’s a café. With great coffee.”

  “Oh.” Well, she’d already made her point over the safety seat. “I don’t drink coffee.”

  “It figures.”

  Less than the length of a city block away from Town Hall, he parked the truck in front of a squat, stuccoed building. Kayla rushed to unbuckle her seat belt, then to free Becky from hers.

  After helping her niece jump from the truck’s high cab, Kayla glanced at the café.

  A clever hand-painted sign above the front door showed one S swinging playfully from a second one. A trellised archway of amazingly lifelike flowers and curling vines, also hand-painted, wound around the entry. Terra-cotta pots filled with flowering cacti lined the walls on either side of the door. A pair of wooden shutters framed each window. The restaurant’s outward appearance was clean, quaint and well cared for.

  She was curious to see if that impression held inside the café.

  Becky looked from the building to Sam and Kayla, then brushed her open hand in the air in front of her face and pulled her fingertips together.

  “Pretty,” Kayla voiced for Sam’s benefit. She bobbed her fist in the air and repeated the sign. “Yes, it’s pretty.”

  Inside, the Southwestern theme continued with unvarnished wooden tables and chairs and rough woven place mats. The only jarring note came from a thoroughly modern glass display case at one end of the counter in the rear of the café, its shelves filled with cakes and cookies and pastries. Becky noticed the goodies, too, and headed right toward them. Kayla smiled.

  After a glance at Sam, she stopped smiling.

  Early that morning, he had said his mother planned to spend the day in her room. Kayla prepared a meal for him to carry upstairs. Before leaving the kitchen, he abruptly announced he’d already eaten breakfast. Then he walked out, returning only in time to leave for town.

  Kayla had shrugged. To tell the truth, she’d been dreading the first meal with all of them together. Still, she couldn’t help a feeling of irritation on Becky’s behalf. Just when did Sam Robertson intend to begin getting acquainted with his own daughter?

  Now Kayla shrugged again, no longer bothered by his actions. It would be much better for her plans if Sam didn’t get close to Becky at all. If only he hadn’t come up with the idea to stop by this café, either.

  She turned to look at her niece, who stood staring into the dessert case. She had eaten a good-size serving of eggs and toast that morning, but she had a sweet tooth to rival Kayla’s own.

  Kayla felt tempted to head toward the dessert case, too.

  Instead, she followed Sam to the counter.

  As they approached, a petite raven-haired woman in a bright orange waitress’s uniform shifted her gaze from Becky to them. She looked about Kayla’s mother’s age, but the broad smile that lit her face erased years from it.

  “Sam, my friend!” she called. She chuckled and indicated the little girl with her hands and nose pressed against the display case. “And this I think must be Becky.”

  Kayla blinked. Sam hadn’t been kidding about people keeping their ears open in this town.

  “Yep.” He slid onto a stool. When the other woman looked curiously over his shoulder at Kayla, he made brief introductions. “This is Dorinda Martinez. Kayla Ward.”

  “Nice to meet you, Dorinda.”

  “The same for me. Call me Dori, please.”

  “Dori,” she agreed, smiling as she took the seat beside Sam.

  Did he plan to have their talk in front of this nice but clearly observant woman? Kayla wondered about the “plenty of things” he had to say. Well, she’d just have to take her turn in the conversation first.

  “So you’ve heard about Becky already?” he asked Dori.

  “Of course. How was your meeting with the judge this morning?”

  At her question, even he did a double take. “How the heck did you find out about that?”

  She grinned. “Every day, Ellamae has an order to go on her way to Town Hall.”

  “Huh. I should’ve known.”

  “Two nurses from the hospital came in for coffee and told me about your poor mama, too.”

  “Hmm. Well, the judge was about what you’d expect,” Sam muttered. “Crotchety. Mom’s doing fine this morning. Still in some pain. They say a bad sprain’s worse than a fracture. But mostly she’s just uncomfortable. And—” he gave a low chuckle “—she’s no end ticked off that the doc’s forcing her to bed rest.”

  “Sharleen is not one to sit still, is she?”

  Kayla fought to keep from frowning. On the way to town, when she had asked Sam about his mother, he’d said merely, “She’s okay.” He certainly seemed willing enough to talk now.

  Dori took a step into the café’s kitchen area behind her. “Manny, come see who’s here.”

  A moment later, a dark-haired man appeared, his round face splitting into a grin when he saw Sam. “Hey, my friend. It’s been a while.”

  Now, that didn’t surprise Kayla at all. Ronnie had told them how little Sam left the ranch.

  “About time you decided to visit,” the other man continued. “And good timing. I have a pot of five-alarm chili on the back burner, waiting just for you.”

  Sam shook his head. “A little early for me, thanks, Manny. But the ladies here might want some of Dori’s desserts.”

  “Of course!” Dori said, winking at Kayla. “If not for my sweets, no one would even stop by the café.”

  “Ha.” Manny tilted his head toward Sam. “Coffee?”

  He nodded.

  “It’s true,” Dori told Kayla as she moved over to the display case. “People from all over the county come here—”

  “For my chili,” Manny broke in.

  “Ahh, my poor mixed-up husband, we’ll let Kayla be the judge of what’s good. And Becky.” She knelt down beside the little girl and pointed at the display case.

  Becky nodded eagerly and put her hand on the glass near a doughnut decorated with chocolate sprinkles.

  “One doughnut, coming up,” Dori said.

  Her throat tight, Kayla nearly croaked out her order to Manny for tea and an apple tart.

  It was so easy to communicate with a four-year-old. Yet, all morning, Sam hadn’t said a word or even made a gesture toward the child.

  How could the judge possibly think about leaving Becky in the care of a man as unfeeling as this? Why didn’t Sam try to talk with his own daughter? Even more puzzling, why was he fighting for custody when he obviously didn’t want anything to do with Becky?

  Desperately needing a distraction from these thoughts, Kayla said, “Dori and Manny. So, where does the name Double S come in?”

  Manny pretended to shudder. “My Dori wanted to call the place Spicy and Sweet. Can you believe?”

  “Sweet ’n’ Spicy,” Dori corrected.

  He rolled his eyes. “So now it’s the Double S.”

  “Sure. Thanks to my friend here.”

  “Wait a minute,” Sam protested. “It wasn’t my idea.”

  “Oh? Do you think I’ll fall for that?” Dori’s voice sounded stern, but as she turned toward Kayla, the twinkle in her eyes gave her away. “A cowboy gives my café a cowboy name. And a cowboy makes the sign outside. That’s proof, isn’t it?”

  “Sounds like it to me,” Kayla agreed, struggling to hide her shock. Sam had made that beautiful, creative sign she had seen at the front of the café? The idea astounded her. When she glanced sideways at him, he looked away.

  She thought of the intrica
tely carved headboard on Becky’s bed. Had Sam made that, too? The idea made her distinctly uneasy. Had he taken the time, gone to the effort in the hope his daughter might sleep in that bed someday?

  How wonderful if Becky’s father had thought so much of her.

  And how awful for Kayla if the judge found out. That is, if her thoughts were even true. Sam certainly hadn’t done anything to support them so far.

  She forced her attention back to the conversation.

  “Now we are the Double S,” Manny was saying. “Short and to the point.”

  Dori spread her hands wide and shrugged. “It’s not polite to refuse a gift. And so I am defeated.”

  “Keeping our guests from their refreshments isn’t polite, either.” Manny turned back to them, a brimming teacup in one hand.

  “We’ll take our stuff over to a table,” Sam told him.

  “Good enough.”

  Sam now stood beside his counter stool, waiting.

  Kayla slid from her seat.

  The time had come for the talk she had requested. If Sam didn’t mind having that conversation with his friends in hearing range, she wouldn’t let it bother her, either.

  She gripped the strap of her shoulder bag and sailed past him.

  Chapter Five

  Sam pushed his coffee mug from side to side. Dori had Becky occupied at the counter with crayons and paper. Just as he’d settled at the corner table, a steady stream of customers had come in for their midmorning coffee. The place had gotten more crowded than he’d expected. By the time he greeted all the new arrivals and made introductions, he’d begun to think he and Kayla would never get down to business.

  Maybe a straight talk at the Double S wasn’t such a good idea, but he hated the thought of bringing this woman back to his ranch.

  When they were finally as isolated as they would probably get, she beat him to the punch.

  “Sam, as I said to you last night, your mother can’t get around. She’s not going to be able to do much housework or cooking. Or probably even to handle the stairs alone at first.” She lifted her hand for a second, then put it flat on the tabletop, almost as if she’d planned to reach out to him. “I’d like to stay at your house and help out.”

  “Hell, no.” A muscle in his cheek flexed.

  “Okay.” She set her teacup and saucer down in the exact middle of her place mat. “That’s fine.”

  He looked at her warily, knowing she’d never let it rest at that. And she didn’t.

  “As we were driving here, I noticed there’s a bed-and-breakfast nearby. Let me stay there with Becky.”

  “Yeah, right. I’m supposed to trust you not to take off with her?”

  “Of course you can trust me. And the judge did give us joint custody. I have every right to be with her whenever I want. Why would I try to take her away?”

  “Why wouldn’t you?” he countered. “What’s to stop you? You’ve got a rental car sitting right there at the house.”

  She looked at him. All the way through him, probably. “Yes. And that’s where it will stay when I’m at the ranch. Without having it penned in by other vehicles, if you don’t mind.”

  So she’d seen what Jack had done to her little blue sedan. Looked like she’d gotten the message. Good.

  “If Becky and your mother and I are alone all day,” she continued, “I would need the car in case of emergency.”

  That kept him quiet. After what had just happened to Sharleen, he surely couldn’t argue with a need to be prepared.

  “Sam, I’m a teacher. I’ve been fingerprinted for my job and have a clean record. What’s more, I’m honest and trustworthy, and you won’t have to worry about having me in your home.”

  “That’s not a worry to me at all.” He couldn’t have made his tone any colder.

  “Because you don’t plan to let me stay.” Her eyes brightened. He stirred restlessly in his seat. “Becky has been ‘dumped here,’ as you put it, literally with strangers. You’ve got a ranch to take care of. And you know a nanny from some agency won’t be able to sign—or worse—to communicate with Becky in an emergency.”

  Sam forced himself to stare without blinking, without relaxing one bit. He would not let her get to him.

  Becky came running over, waving her piece of paper. She slapped it on the table in front of Kayla and snapped her fingers.

  From upside down, he saw a brown blob with a couple of floppy additions to it. As little as he could tell about it, the blob could have been anything from a rabbit to a tractor.

  “A dog,” Kayla said. She looked at the picture, smiled, then brushed one palm briskly across the other. “Very nice.”

  She rose. “I’m going up to get Becky’s milk.”

  The child went along with her, gesturing wildly as they went to the counter. Kayla looked on, signing back to her.

  What they were talking about, he hadn’t a clue. He never would. Busy as the ranch kept him, what chance in the world would he have of learning another language? Zero to none. Besides, at his age, he probably couldn’t pick up on it, anyhow.

  He looked at the drawing on the table again. Beside the brown blob Becky had added a green blob that might have been a doghouse. Or an alien.

  Damn.

  How could he hope to raise his child? He couldn’t even understand the kid’s drawings!

  For a moment, his determination wavered. With both hands, he got a firm grip on his coffee mug as if it could help him hold on to what he really wanted. For Becky to have everything she deserved. Everything she needed.

  Was he the one to provide that? Could he care for her well enough? How could he know? He’d only met the child two days ago. Much too soon to tell. Did he want to take care of her?

  Hell, yes.

  He couldn’t handle this situation as it stood. And he couldn’t let that woman up at the counter take advantage of that.

  But would he let his pride keep him from doing what he knew was right?

  Kayla had spoken the truth. A nanny couldn’t take care of Becky in an emergency. She’d hit the nail square-on about Sharleen, too. Much as he didn’t want to admit it, he had problems. And only Kayla Ward had answers.

  He watched as she talked for a while with Dori before turning to make her way toward their table again. Watched the handful of men in the place look her over, too. Why not? She was a beautiful woman, no doubt about that. And no resemblance to Ronnie at all.

  Every time his ex had gone into town, she would dress like she was headed to the city. Big-city prices on those getups, too. Kayla wore more casual clothes, but even in chinos and a silky T-shirt, she seemed as out of place in this town as a heifer in a henhouse. He’d had his fill of beautiful women.

  Especially ones named Ward.

  She set the half-empty plastic tumbler of milk on the table and took her seat again.

  Then she leaned forward. Her lips parted, and for some reason he couldn’t help leaning forward a fraction, too.

  “I’ve got the law on my side.”

  Her words slammed him back against his seat.

  She looked steadily at him. “There’s no getting around the fact,” she murmured, “that Judge Baylor gave me the right to see my niece—whether you like the idea or not. And I don’t want her having to face yet another caretaker right now. You shouldn’t, either.”

  Becky patted Kayla’s arm, and she transferred her attention to the child.

  Tearing his gaze away, he stared down into his mug again.

  She had nerve throwing the decision in his face. As if he could have forgotten the judge’s words. But she had a point, too, about the caretaker. He didn’t want Becky saddled with another babysitter, either. As far as his options went…

  Well, he didn’t have any.

  Even if he could get someone from town in to help, chances were it’d only be part-time.

  He had a full-time problem.

  Becky was talking a blue streak in her own way, arms flying. Kayla watched, nodding, saying nothing.
But there was a world of response in her animated expressions, in the way she used her eyes and moved her mouth….

  He forced himself to look away.

  Wielding her crayon, Becky bent over her picture, leaving Kayla free to lean toward him again. This time, he managed not to follow suit.

  “Come on, Sam.” Her voice cracked. “Hasn’t she been through enough?”

  He set his jaw. She seemed to care for Becky, he had to give her that. Just as she seemed to distrust him. Thanks to Ronnie.

  “She knows me,” Kayla continued. “She can talk to me. Even more to the point, she can understand when I talk to her.” He could tell she fought to keep her voice low, to keep their conversation as private as she could. “I’ve said this all before, Sam. And it’s all still true.”

  He said nothing.

  Suddenly, she sat upright, her back ramrod straight, her blue eyes blazing. “Let’s ask Becky her opinion.”

  “You’re pulling my leg. She’s a four-year-old.”

  Ignoring him, she waved to Becky and began talking as she signed. “Your Daddy wants to know—” Kayla eyed him for a split second. Sam glared.

  “—do you want Aunt Kayla to stay with you?”

  Before he could tell her what he thought of her lowdown tactic, the words were driven from his mind by Becky’s shriek of pleasure. She pushed the drawing aside and threw her arms around Kayla.

  Kayla hugged her in return.

  The child slid from her seat, her hands moving like the wind. “She’s saying, Can you stay?” Kayla told him. “Please, Aunt Kayla, can you stay?”

  Watching his daughter bounce up and down in excitement made his chest hurt.

  How could he agree to go along with Kayla’s idea?

  His own unwanted reaction to her was bad enough. How could he risk letting her cement her relationship with the child? How could he just hand over to her every thing she’d need to have the judge take his daughter away from him?

  He felt that muscle in his cheek twitch again.

  “Look at her,” Kayla murmured, her tone neither pleading nor demanding, just daring him to see her side of things.

  When he held his tongue, she added, “I’m not going anywhere, Sam. I’ll be here in town for the next six weeks, until the judge makes his decision. Let me stay at the ranch.”