A Rancher's Pride(2)

And, worst of all, Sam couldn’t explain any of this to her.

He couldn’t communicate with his daughter at all.

Jack, his ranch foreman, nodded in Becky’s direction. “Look at her, boss. The girl’s taking things in stride.”

“Better than I am.”

Jack shrugged. “Not every day a man’s ex saddles him with a kid he’s not expecting.”

“Well, I have her now.” His gut tightened every time he recalled Sharleen’s story of how Ronnie had breezed in and hustled out of the ranch house, waving an over-the-shoulder goodbye as if she’d done no more than deliver a mail-order package. What made her do it, after all this time…? He couldn’t hazard a guess. Maybe her soon-to-be husband had a say in the matter.

“Sharleen’s handling things, too,” Jack said.

“Yeah. But neither of us is going to be able to cope with a child who can’t talk. Besides, my mother’s getting up there, and a four-year-old’s more than she can handle.” Especially this one.

Late-afternoon sunbeams slanted through the cedar trees edging the yard. Becky ran from a patch of darkness into light and back again, playing her private, silent game. As they watched, she stumbled. Sam slapped his hand flat against the wooden barn door. If she hurt herself, how would he comfort her?

Geez. Talk about overreacting.

Or was it?

Could he ever keep Becky safe?

His breath caught in a half-strangled hitch. “Damn,” he muttered. “What in hell am I going to do?”

“Take care of the kid,” Jack said.

Like it was that easy.

Becky settled on the grass and began tugging on a few of the yellow dandelions Sam never had time to weed. Safe enough for her there. For the moment.

Take care of her.

Right.

Looking out across the yard, he said, “Laying in fence, breaking a horse, rounding up cattle. Jack, those jobs, you know I can handle with my eyes closed.”

The foreman nodded.

“But this…” How could he take care of a deaf four-year-old daughter he hadn’t, till yesterday, even known existed?

Raising his gaze, he looked as far as he could see, focusing on the higher pastures and, above them, the ranks of piñon and pine. Viewing the extent of his ranch usually gave him pleasure, but right now, even that sight couldn’t take him from his troubles.

“Sam.” Jack pointed.

From down the road a ways, a shiny blue four-door sedan neared the house. The driver pulled in at the front of the property and climbed out, then slammed the door closed behind her.

Jack whistled, long and low.

Sam nodded, unsmiling. His ex had soured him on women years ago. Though he’d finally started thinking about the sweeter side of them again, Ronnie’s visit had sure put paid to any good thoughts about the so-called fairer sex.

What she’d done hadn’t been fair at all.

To him and Sharleen. Or to Becky.

The woman in the driveway wore a bright pink T-shirt. A skimpy cotton jacket and a brand-new pair of jeans called attention to curves that even stiff denim couldn’t hide.

Sam gave himself a mental shake. You’d think he hadn’t seen a woman since his divorce. Heck, he had plenty of female friends—even if a good number of them had reached the age to collect their retirement pay.

“Man,” Jack said, “if that’s new hired help, she can help me out anytime.”

Sam frowned. “I don’t know who she is.”

He took one last look at Becky. She had climbed onto the wooden swing at the far side of the back porch, well out of sight of anyone out at the road. Sharleen stood nearby taking windblown sheets off the line.

He crossed the yard and headed toward the front of the house at a lope, taking in the woman as he neared her. She looked even better close up. Long, golden-brown hair the color of honey pine. Eyes the blue of a lake in winter. And those curves. Whoa.

He’d never seen a vision like this one before, and he knew every soul in Flagman’s Folly.

“I’m Sam Robertson. What can I do for you?”

As she looked at him, those blue eyes froze over.

A warning bell rang somewhere deep in his memory. “Don’t I know you?”

“You should. I’m Kayla Ward.”

“As in Ronnie Ward?”

She nodded. “I’m her sister. You don’t recognize me?”

He looked closer. His insides tightened and his pulse picked up. Yeah, he remembered her now, no matter how briefly he’d seen her the first time they’d crossed paths.