Home on the Ranch 47 - Tina Radcliffe Read online

  The passenger door was yanked open, and Annie slid out of the truck and into Rose’s arms before Will could pull the parking brake.

  “What on earth took you so long, Will? You stop for every squirrel in the road?”

  “She made me go the long way.” He lifted the suitcases from the flatbed and set them on the porch.

  “I did not,” Annie protested from within Rose’s embrace. “He drove like an old woman trying to keep his truck clean.”

  Will watched Rose fuss over Annie, making clucking noises as she took the younger woman’s face in her hands. “You’ve lost weight.”

  “Well, naturally,” Annie said, stepping back. She gave a dismissive toss of her dark head. “Nobody cooks like you.”

  “How’s that leg? Hurt much?” Rose questioned.

  “No, it’s more of a nuisance than anything.” Annie stepped forward.

  “Easy. Will, come and help her up the steps,” Rose directed.

  “Help?” He moved next to both women. “She bites my head off every time I try to help.”

  Before Annie could protest Will had scooped her up in his arms and started up the steps. He realized his mistake the minute she frantically wrapped her arms around his neck.

  Annie Harris wasn’t a scrawny little kid anymore. She might have lost a few pounds, but she felt exactly like a woman, with curves in all the right places.

  Annie was a woman. Will stumbled at the realization. When he deposited her on the porch like a hot potato, she grabbed the railing for support.

  The phone echoed from the house.

  “That’ll be my sister wanting to know if you’re here yet.” Rose flew past them.

  “What did I tell you? It’s just begun,” Will said. He pulled open the screen door for Rose.

  Annie still stood holding the rail, eyes wide and accusing. “That wasn’t necessary,” she said with a quiet voice. She yanked her pants and shirt straight and wouldn’t look him in the eye.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Carrying me.”

  Her gaze flew to his, sparks of gold flashing in the dark eyes.

  “Ah.” Will took the opportunity to roll his shoulders in mock pain. “I think I pulled a muscle.”

  “You did not.”

  He looked her up and down and grinned. “Still a scrapper.”

  Years ago she’d stood on this same front porch, her hair in a single braid, enormous eyes staring. A little girl clutching a brown paper grocery sack which held all her belongings.

  But Annie never cried. Not even when her momma left.

  That was almost twelve years ago, the same day he set aside his own grief. At eighteen he’d recognized a soul mate in the brave kid who had been left on their doorstep.

  He leaned back against the rail, his glance skipping over her. Long, silky chestnut hair flowed around her shoulders as she surveyed the land, a challenging tilt to her chin. Her brown eyes, almost gypsy-black, had dark smudges beneath them, telling signs of the ordeal in Kenya.

  Will counted up the years. Was she really twenty-four? Twenty-five come winter. How did that happen? Hard to believe she’d be getting married someday.

  Whoa.

  Annie getting married?

  He frowned. Was any man ready for Annie? He doubted the man existed who could match her toe-to-toe, heart-to-heart. The thought gave him an inexplicable satisfaction he chose to neither analyze nor explore.

  Annie was a challenge all right, tall and proud, holding her thoughts locked deep inside. Pride was her middle name.

  She’d tell you it was Elizabeth. Anne Elizabeth. He grinned, remembering how she had made it perfectly clear to everyone that she was Miss Anne E. Harris.

  She turned to meet his gaze, hers questioning. “What’s so funny?”

  “Miss Anne E.,” he said.

  The corners of her mouth raised in a self-deprecatory salute. “Don’t remind me.” She pointed across the yard to a building in the distance. “What’s that?”

  “New stables. You still know how to ride?” he asked.

  “I hope I do.” Her smile deepened and she turned back to him. “How many horses?”

  “Six, and quite a few boarders.”

  “The boarding has picked up?”

  Will released his breath. “Not as much as I’d hoped.” Not as much as he needed.

  His eyes narrowed following her gaze as she looked out toward the orchard.

  “Lots going on at the ranch, Annie. I’ve started a new business venture. This is the make-it-or-break-it year for Sullivan Ranch.” He gripped the railing tightly with both hands.

  And he had to make a profit to keep his father’s legacy alive. No way would he let Sullivan Ranch go without a fight.

  Rose appeared at the screen. “Come on inside. Too dark now to appreciate all Will’s hard work. You can see the ranch tomorrow. It’s supposed to be a beautiful day. Did you see that red sky?”

  Will held the door open.

  As she moved past, Annie raised a knowing brow at him. “Told you so,” she whispered.

  Will merely smiled.

  “Wait until you see all the changes around here. Will’s put this place on the map. Did he tell you about the web page?”

  Annie grinned. “Yes, I heard.”

  Rose wiped her hands on her apron and stepped back as Annie hopped inside. “Oh, and, Will, that was for you, that gal from church who keeps pestering you.” Rose frowned. “I’ve already forgotten her name. Well, no never mind. I let her know you’re too busy to chitchat, and to call back tomorrow.”

  “What?” Annie taunted from inside the house. “Will has a girlfriend?”

  Grabbing the suitcases, he strode past the kitchen. The aroma of fresh blackberry pie accompanied him down the hallway.

  “I do not have a girlfriend,” he called, depositing the bags on the rag rug in Annie’s old room.

  The fact was he rarely dated and took pains not encourage anyone in any way. Will had come to terms with the path he must take long ago. It could never include marriage.

  “Why, our Will is considered quite a catch these days, don’t you know?” Rose said, proud as any mother.

  Annie released a strangled laugh at Rose’s words and slapped her palm on the heavy oak table.

  “What’s so funny about that?” After drying his hands, Will balled up the dish towel and shot, hitting his target dead-on where she sat.

  Pulling the cloth off her head, Annie flung the fabric back.

  He neatly dodged.

  “Okay, you two. No horseplay in the house,” Rose reprimanded, picking up the towel from the floor. She opened the refrigerator and grabbed a large foil-covered plate.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Will’s fingers snaked out to grab a slice of roast beef just as Rose uncovered the platter. He popped the tidbit into his mouth.

  When he turned he found Annie inspecting him. “What?” he asked, uncomfortable with her assessment.

  “N-Nothing.” She quickly glanced away.

  “Come on. You’re up to something.”

  Annie cleared her throat and turned back, her usual mischievous smile in place. “I wondered if I crossed my eyes and looked real hard I might be able to figure out what all the fuss is about.”

  “Huh?”

  “All those women chasing you.”

  “Oh, knock it off,” he growled. “Now, what do you want to drink?”

  “Anything without caffeine, please,” she said. A frown settled on her face. “Suddenly I’m not tired at all, and that is not good.”

  “Having insomnia, honey?” Rose asked. “You sleep on the plane at all?”

  “The only place I’ve managed to get any decent sleep was in Will’s truck.”

  “Is that the story of my life or what? I bore women to sleep.”

  “You should be honored. I don’t nod off for just anyone, you know.”

  The circles beneath her eyes told Will she didn’t exaggerate. He knew it wasn’t only plane rides keeping her awake. W
hat happened over there that continued to haunt her nights? She’d refused to discuss the accident on the phone.

  “What else do you want out of here, Rose?” He motioned to the refrigerator.

  “Grab that spicy mustard Annie likes, and the blackberry pie from the counter.”

  “Oh, well, now I know I’m in heaven. Blackberry pie.” Annie licked her lips. She stood and awkwardly leaned against the chair back, then hopped to the cupboard.

  “I’ll get whatever you need,” Will said.

  She pulled out a plate. “I’m not helpless. Now please slide that pie over here.”

  “You can’t eat dessert first.” He held the tin barely out of her grasp.

  “Watch me.” Annie grabbed the pie from Will’s hands. She set it down and transferred a generous chunk onto her plate then to her mouth. Slowly chewing and swallowing, she closed her eyes for a moment in silent appreciation. “Nobody cooks like Rose.” A fork pointed at him, she continued, “You’re spoiled rotten.”

  “Got that straight.” He swiped a small crumb that had fallen from her fork to the polished wood table. Tasting the morsel, he stopped and relished the rightness of having the people he cared about most gathered together in his kitchen. Heartfelt words slipped out before he was aware of it. “It’s so good to have you back.”

  Annie paused. “Thank you, Will.” She sounded almost shy.

  “Are you saying all I have to do to keep you here is keep the pie coming?” Rose asked.

  “That’ll do it,” Annie agreed, eyes still locked on Will as she sat back down. “Of course, you’ll be rolling me down the front steps when I leave,” she added.

  “You just got here. Don’t start talking about leaving,” Rose moaned.

  “Rose,” Will reminded softly. They’d discussed this topic after Annie’s phone call.

  Don’t get your hopes up, he’d said.

  He thought Rose would collapse when she heard about the attack on the Kenyan border clinic. A bullet hit Annie’s leg. They’d received a late-night phone message from the U.S. Embassy informing them Annie was in a Nairobi hospital.

  Will’s jaw clenched as he remembered. Then and there he decided to call and demand she come home—at least until she healed. Before the call went through he’d already determined he wouldn’t allow her to draw him into an argument.

  Her quick wit and sharp tongue he could handle. The acquiescence he heard in her voice was a sucker punch to his gut. Annie was scared and wanted nothing more at that moment than to return to the States.

  But for how long?

  Now that she was here, it would be difficult for Rose to let her go again.

  “I know, I know,” Rose said, stirring the potato salad with vengeance. She turned her head, using the corner of her apron to wipe moisture from her eyes.

  Rose’s heartfelt response slammed into Will. A surge of protectiveness for the woman who’d mothered him for so long welled in his chest.

  He glanced at Annie, who sat at the table looking miserable and seeming unsure what to do. For the first time in a long time, Will sent up a prayer. He didn’t set much stock in them anymore, but Annie defied rational thought. Will was more than frustrated, so he prayed for some kind of intervention, hoping there was a way to make Annie stay.

  Chapter Two

  Will sat in the rocking chair with one boot propped on the railing and the other on the porch.

  Alone with the stars. The time of day he liked best. It was quiet enough to hear an occasional car out on the service road a mile away. The soft night breeze brought only a rustle from the trees and a whinny from the stable.

  He used to come out here at night mad and frustrated, trying to make sense of life. Now, after years of tangling with his demons, he’d finally found an uncertain peace. He imagined his father sitting in the same beat-up rocker and coming to similar conclusions.

  Seeing Annie again brought all the conflicting thoughts back. Vibrant and alive, she had a future that was hers to take.

  For only brief seconds did he despair his own destiny. Then he pushed the negative thoughts away. He wouldn’t allow them to control his life ever again.

  He’d gone to the wall and back with God on this.

  Huntington’s.

  There was a fifty-fifty chance he had the disease that slowly destroyed his father.

  A mere toss of the coin.

  Those odds were what had kept him awake at night when he was younger. He’d been haunted day and night after his father’s death. Every tremor, every stumbled step reminded Will of the deterioration that forced his father into a wheelchair and then to the bed that became his final prison.

  Huntington’s was the Sullivan family secret. Only Rose knew, and she’d honored Will’s privacy.

  The first time they’d discussed the subject she’d begged him to be tested.

  He couldn’t do that, even for Rose.

  If he was negative, sure, the anxiety would be over. But if he was positive, he’d spend every moment of every day anticipating symptoms, seeing even more demons around every corner.

  There was no medical advantage to being tested. A positive test result couldn’t tell when he’d actually develop the disease or to what degree. It only meant he was positive for the gene. There would be even more unanswered questions. Another can of worms to deal with.

  It was about the time Annie left he realized he had two choices: walk away from God or walk with Him. He’d chosen the latter, knowing there was no way he could make this journey alone.

  Will planned to savor each day, appreciating what was set before him. He had the ranch and his friends. Life was pretty darn good. Yes, his was an uncertain peace. But peace, nonetheless.

  On his terms.

  Just the way he liked things.

  He stared out at the land. Even in the darkness he recognized every landmark on the property, from the maple trees in front of the house to the horse barn rising to the right, to the silhouette of the peach orchard far to the north.

  Sullivan Ranch. His legacy.

  But could he hold on to that legacy?

  Will’s ears perked at a sound from in the house. He stopped the easy motion of the chair and listened. The screen creaked and pushed open.

  He tipped back his head to look.

  Annie wore Rose’s plaid flannel robe, twisted, with the collar tucked in. Her hair stood up around her head, like some sort of wayward angel.

  “Who’ve you been wrestling?”

  “That silly bed, of course. It has more lumps than I remembered.”

  “Hey, princess, Rose replaced that mattress as soon as she found out you were coming back.”

  “Really? Then I guess I have more lumps than I remembered.” She rubbed her hip.

  He chuckled and got to his feet. “Here, sit down.” As she limped past he pulled out the collar of her robe. “You look like you stuck your finger in a light socket.”

  “Flatterer.” With nimble fingers she smoothed down her hair and pushed the strands away from her face.

  “What are you doing up, Will?”

  “A lot on my mind.”

  “Me, too.” Easing into the chair, she glanced at him, dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “I guess it’s a bit early for breakfast.”

  “A bit.” He glanced at the luminous dial of his watch, then gave her a wink. “But not too early for a midnight snack.”

  “Blackberry pie.” They said the words together and laughed.

  Will stood. “What do you want to drink?”

  “Milk,” she said, using her good leg to gently rock the chair. “And thanks so much, Will.”

  He returned moments later, their snacks on a tray, which he set on the rail of the porch. “You know, it’s getting mighty annoying the way you thank me for every single thing.”

  “But.” She swallowed hard and blinked furiously. “I mean, it’s not like I live here anymore. I don’t want to mess up your schedule and be a bother.”

  So that was what this was a
ll about.

  “Annie, we’re your family. This is your home.”

  “No.” She reached out a hand to touch his arm and he stepped back.

  Annie cleared her throat. “I’m—I’m grateful you and Rose took me in. You certainly didn’t need another mouth to feed, and I’m so appreciative that you put up with me all those years. But, Will, Sullivan Ranch is your home. Not mine.”

  “I don’t want your gratitude.” He paused and stared at her. Understanding suddenly broke through the emotions crowding his mind. “Is that why you didn’t come back after college?”

  “I did come back.”

  “For less than a year.”

  She clasped and unclasped her hands.

  “Why did you go to Kenya?” He wanted to understand. Needed to understand.

  “I had to find my own life, my own place in this world. I honestly felt called to medical missions. Besides, I was itching to get out and see the world.” She tightened the belt on the robe. “They needed me over there, and there wasn’t a good reason not to stay.”

  “Even though the situation was tense?” He ran his fingers through his hair. The thought of Annie putting herself at risk chilled him through and through.

  “It wasn’t really. Not at first. When they attacked the clinic—” She hitched in a breath. “For the first time in my life I was faced with my own mortality. I realized I might never see the ranch again. The next thing I knew, the embassy was pulling us out. I wasn’t sure where I would go.” She met his gaze. “The timing. Your phone call.”

  “You wouldn’t have called?” He turned away and stared out into the night, frozen for a moment by the shock delivered by the truth.

  “I know none of this makes any sense to you, Will.”

  He shook his head and glanced down at her. “Sure it does. Finally everything is making sense. And I could wring your neck.”

  “Good,” she interrupted. “Then nothing’s changed, because you’re always wanting to wring my neck.” She smiled sweetly.

  He refused to give in to her humor. Instead, he demanded, “How could you question where you would go?”

  She shrugged and bit her lip. “I’m sorry, but the longer I stayed away the harder it was to come back.”

  Crouching down, he took her hands in his. They were small and soft, the skin chilled. “Tell me what happened.”