Buch lesen: «Stand-In Rancher Daddy»

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Little Horn, Texas, June 1895

A full hour before the sun peeked over the horizon, Molly Carson Langley slid out of bed. Ranch work started early in Texas Hill Country. If she wished to make her morning journey before the sun rose, she must hurry.

With fast, measured steps, she padded through the room. The hardwood floor was polished to a smooth patina and felt warm beneath her bare feet. A muffled sigh slipped past her lips. After three years of marriage and successfully managing her own household, she didn’t belong in her childhood home anymore.

She wasn’t sure where she belonged. Until she figured it out, a pair of motherless four-year-olds needed her. That mattered. It had to matter. Of course it mattered.

Jaw set at a determined angle, Molly stuffed her feet inside a pair of ankle boots and put on her favorite calico dress with the lavender floral print. She wound her blond hair in a loose braid down her back, then packed a small bag with personal items from her dresser. A hairbrush, a rack of pins, several ribbons in colors she hoped the girls would like, and her worn Bible with the pages crinkled at the edges.

One glance out the window told her the morning sky was shifting from black to deep purple. Dawn was drawing near.

Hurry, Molly.

She made her way toward the door. The other occupant in the room slept peacefully, her soft, feminine snoring the only sound cutting through the still, humid air.

Without breaking stride, Molly smiled down at her sister. At sixteen, the dreams of youth were still fresh and untarnished in Daisy’s young mind. Seven years older, Molly could hardly relate to the girl. The death of her husband eleven months ago made it all the more difficult.

Her feet grew heavy as stone and, for a brief moment, despair filled Molly’s heart. She’d lost more than her husband. So. Much. More.

No. She would not feel sorry for herself. If he were here, George would tell her that the good Lord had a plan for her life. No matter how dark it seemed right now, the particulars were already worked out. She just needed to have faith.

Molly wasn’t as faithful as her preacher husband had been. Not anymore. Perhaps she never had been.

At least she’d had somewhere to go after George’s death. Molly would concentrate on being grateful her family had welcomed her home.

Her future might look bleak, but she was still young, still vital, still necessary to a family facing their own tragedy. When she’d returned home, she’d never expected her best friend to die suddenly and leave behind twin daughters. Molly would take care of Penelope’s children until she was no longer needed.

Resolve firmly in place, she slung the satchel over her shoulder and tiptoed into the empty hallway. She entered the kitchen, took two full steps and froze.

A pang of guilt whispered through her.

“Good morning, Mama.” Molly adopted what she hoped was an airy tone. “You’re up early.”

“I was going to say the same about you.” The soft, musical lilt was in stark contrast to the concern in her mother’s eyes.

Even after birthing five children, Helen Carson remained a beautiful woman. Her blond hair, streaked with silver strands, was pulled back in a serviceable bun that revealed a face nearly identical to her two daughters. Save for a few lines and wrinkles, the high cheekbones were the same, as were the straight nose, pale blue eyes and stubborn set of her chin.

“Well, I’m off to the Thorn ranch.” Molly attempted to shift around her mother.

“I’d like a word with you before you leave.”

Molly tried not to sigh. This was the reason she’d woken early: to avoid a difficult conversation with her mother.

Helen Carson was fiercely protective of all her children, and that included her oldest daughter. What she refused to understand was that Molly was a grown woman capable of making her own decisions. “There is nothing you can say that will change my mind.”

Her mother’s features showed distress and something else—not censure, precisely, but close. “It’s been nearly a year since your husband’s death. George wouldn’t want you hiding from the world.”

“I’m not hiding from the world.” Molly blew out a frustrated burst of air, hating the defensive note in her voice. “I’m serving a family in need.”

George would understand. He would even encourage her. An itinerant preacher, his personal mission had been to help the less fortunate. Before he’d contracted the fever that ultimately killed him, George had shared a love of serving others side by side with Molly.

Her marriage had been a happy one. Until Molly failed to provide her husband with the one thing he wanted most—a child. She’d been bitterly disappointed over her failure as a wife. George’s resentment had only added to her shame.

If her mother knew the truth, Molly was certain she’d give her words of comfort, the kind meant to heal her troubled heart. But Molly didn’t want sympathy. She certainly didn’t want to discuss her secret shame.

Anything but that.

She stood straighter, lifted her chin and attempted a second time to step around her mother.

Helen Carson moved directly into her path. “It’s been six months since Penelope became ill and died. Surely there is someone else who can care for her daughters.”

“There is no one else.”

Besides, Molly had given her friend her word. Even if she hadn’t made a promise, the twins needed a woman’s influence in their lives. They had their father, yet even after six months he was still absorbed in his own grief. And lately, Molly had noticed him distancing himself from his daughters, barely going through the motions of being a parent.

Their uncle sometimes stepped in and filled the void. Molly admired him for that—oh, how, she admired him—but CJ had his hands full running the Triple-T ranch.

“If you won’t listen to reason,” her mother said, “then at least consider taking Daisy with you.”

“You need her here.”

Her mother opened her mouth to argue.

Molly cut her off. “Please try to understand. Until Ned marries again, or another solution presents itself, I will honor my promise to Penelope. If our roles were reversed, she would do the same for me.”

“I can’t help but think there’s something you’re not telling me, some reason you’re not sharing with me.”

“The twins need me.” What woman didn’t want to be needed, especially one who couldn’t have children of her own? “I should think that reason enough.”

“Molly, won’t you please be honest with me?”

“It’s nearly dawn.” She looked pointedly at the band of gray riding low on the horizon. “The girls will be awake soon.”

This time, when Molly made for the back door, her mother pulled her into a fierce hug. “As soon as you’re ready to tell me what’s troubling you, I’ll be here to listen.”

“There’s nothing troubling me.” She stepped out of the embrace. “Other than my concern for two small children.”

With her mother’s sigh of resignation ringing in her ears, Molly hurried out of the house. She made quick work of saddling Sadie, the ten-year-old gray mare born the same year as Molly’s youngest brother, Donny.

Halfway between her family’s large spread and the much smaller Triple-T ranch, Molly felt the tension in her shoulders melt away. A soft flutter of air stirred the leaves of the Texas oaks nestled in a small grove on her left. She breathed in, smelled the faint scents of sassafras and wild cherry.

Molly loved this time of morning, when night slowly surrendered to day and everything felt new again. When possibilities stretched before her and the future didn’t feel so hopeless.

Rolling Hills ranch was the largest cattle operation in the area. Tall, rugged bluffs peppered the landscape as far as the eye could see. The green leaves of cottonwood trees shared space with large granite and limestone rocks. The sound of water sloshing on the lakeshore near the edge of her parents’ property accompanied a bobwhite’s distinctive whistle.

A movement in the distance caught her attention. Narrowing her eyes, she watched a horse and rider race across a flat patch of land. The man’s slouched posture was at odds with the magnificence of the black stallion beneath him.

Molly’s stomach dropped.

She knew that horse, and the rider. But the two did not belong together. Why hadn’t Ned taken his own gelding? What was he doing with his brother’s horse?

No one rode Thunder but CJ. The animal was too valuable to be mishandled and...

Molly had a terrible, awful feeling about this.

Please, Lord, let me be wrong. The evidence suggested otherwise. She should have seen this coming.

Why hadn’t she put the pieces together before now?

Ned had become increasingly morose in recent weeks, muttering things under his breath such as “What’s the use?” and “I can’t keep doing this.” Molly hadn’t thoroughly understood what he meant and she certainly hadn’t wanted to overstep her bounds. After all, she was helping out the Thorn family in a temporary capacity.

Another unsettling thought occurred. Surely Ned hadn’t left the twins alone in the house.

What if he had?

Molly wrapped her arms around Sadie’s neck. “Come on, old girl.” She gave a gentle kick to the mare’s ribs. “I need you to run faster than you ever have before.”

The horse responded with a burst of speed. Once they were on Thorn land, Molly urged Sadie to a trot, guiding her past the outbuildings, around the corral and on to the main house, a simple, one-story, whitewashed clapboard structure.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed smoke coming from the bunkhouse, a sure sign Cookie had already started making breakfast for the handful of ranch hands CJ employed.

Was CJ eating with the hands, as he did every morning? Was he even aware his brother had left the main house?

Molly pulled Sadie to a halt and scrambled off the horse’s back. She hurried onto the porch she and the girls had swept clean yesterday afternoon. Without bothering to knock, she rushed inside the house.

Thick gloom closed in around her. The silence was so heavy she decided the children were surely still asleep.

The children.

Molly must get to Anna and Sarah. She must ensure they were safe. She moved deeper into the house and froze when she caught a faint whiff of whiskey. Oh, Ned.

The situation was far worse than Molly had feared, and certainly explained Ned’s increasing unpredictability. Her friend’s husband had evidently turned to the bottle to swallow his grief. Unfortunately, consuming alcohol was not a wise solution.

Heart in her throat, Molly blinked through the darkness. Her vision slowly cleared, then locked on the tall silhouette of a familiar figure.

A ripple of longing flowed through her before she ruthlessly shut it down.

CJ Thorn stood before her, silent, his eyes on the piece of paper in his hand. His features were inscrutable in the dim light cast by the lamp on the table beside him, but Molly knew every line and curve by heart.

She knew every precious angle of his handsome face, the strong, square jaw and the dark eyebrows slashed over eyes the color of freshly brewed coffee. He was more than merely good-looking. He was a man of integrity and one who’d worked hard to keep his brother from following in their father’s footsteps.

Ned had taken to whiskey, anyway. CJ must be so disappointed.

“CJ?” She gently touched his sleeve.

He looked up. Blinked. Then blinked again, as if he hadn’t expected to find her standing so close.

“I saw Ned riding away from the ranch.” She waited a beat, then supplied the rest of the bad news. “He was on your horse.”

Surprise flared in his eyes. “Ned took Thunder?”

She nodded.

Anger replaced the earlier shock, followed by such sorrow Molly could actually feel the weight of the emotion in her own heart. The vulnerable expression made him more compelling than usual.

CJ Thorn was not a man who needed to be more compelling than usual.

The children, she told herself. Anna and Sarah must come first. With the twins in mind, Molly released CJ’s arm and stepped back.

* * *

In the predawn gloom, CJ tried to focus on the woman standing beside him. But his mind kept returning to Ned and the terrible choice his brother had made.

No matter how hard CJ fought to keep his breathing steady, his gut roiled with regret. This was the moment he’d been dreading for weeks, when his brother gave up completely.

Rage boiled into something CJ couldn’t begin to name. Ned had not only made his escape on CJ’s prize stallion, he’d not only abandoned his own children, but he’d left the girls alone in the house. Any number of things could have happened to them.

Even for Ned, that was an all-time low. What was next? Cattle rustling? Bank robbery?

For months, CJ had held out hope that the worst of Ned’s grief was behind him. He’d prayed that his younger brother was on the brink of returning to the man he’d been while Penelope was alive.

Obviously, that had been wishful thinking.

All the emotion CJ had been holding back threatened to spill over, filling him until he thought he might explode.

“Is that a note from Ned?” Molly’s voice seemed to come at him through a thick wall of water.

He gave a brief nod before returning his gaze to the hastily scrawled note. The handwriting was messy, the message even messier.

Ned had always preferred the easier tasks on the ranch, but he’d been a decent man at the core. Penelope had brought out the best in him. Since her death, Ned had slipped deeper and deeper into despair.

CJ thought he’d be able to save Ned, given time.

Time had just run out.

“CJ, did you hear me?”

He lifted his head and glanced once again at the woman he’d grown to rely on far more than he cared to admit. “Ned took off.”

“Yes, I know.”

His heart began to thump harder.

Five years peeled away and he was twenty-two again, meeting Molly for the first time. She’d been full of light and goodness back then, the same as now. Just being in her company made him wish for...more. But he knew he could never reach so far above his station in life. He’d learned that cruel lesson from another woman and her upright, proper parents.

“Talk to me. Tell me what’s happened.”

He handed her Ned’s note.

Feeling oddly nostalgic, he held silent while she read. During Ned and Penelope’s courtship, Molly had acted as chaperone. CJ had been attracted to her from the start. But he’d never let her know. Lillian’s harsh words had taught him a valuable lesson. No decent woman from a respectable family would have a man like him, a man with the last name Thorn.

Penelope had taken the risk and married Ned. Look how that had ended.

“Oh, Ned.” Molly’s hand flew to her mouth. “How could you?”

“I’ve been asking myself that same question.”

How could his brother surrender custody of his own daughters to CJ?

Eyes shadowed with sadness, Molly returned the piece of paper. Her fingertips grazed CJ’s knuckles. The touch was barely a whisper, yet he felt the impact like a blow to the gut.

He closed his fist around the words Ned had penned. In a quick, careless scrawl of ink across paper, his brother had become the man CJ feared was deep inside every Thorn. He shuddered to think what would become of Ned now that he’d given in to the dark side of his nature.

“I suppose I understand how he could give up on himself,” Molly said. “But how could he give up on his own children?”

CJ heard the tears in her voice, saw the sorrow in the slump of her shoulders. He wanted to comfort her.

He took a large step back instead.

An awareness of her as a woman had been gnawing at him ever since she’d taken over Sarah and Anna’s full-time care following Penelope’s funeral.

Though he’d often wondered why Molly continued to serve his family, and CJ hadn’t interacted with her very often, he’d been grateful for her help. The girls adored her and he didn’t take that for granted. She’d been the stable force in all their lives. He realized that now.

Once, months ago, CJ had offered to pay Molly for her kindness. She’d been insulted by the mere suggestion and so he’d never brought up the subject again.

Did she understand how much his family relied on her? How much he relied on her? Every day, he felt her presence acutely, hovering on the edge of his life but not really part of it.

“I hadn’t realized Ned’s grief was this great. I thought...” Her brows pulled together in confusion. “How did I miss this?”

“We both missed it.”

Ned hadn’t begun drinking immediately following Penelope’s death, yet it hadn’t been very long afterward. When CJ had first confronted his brother, Ned had claimed he didn’t have a problem. He simply missed his wife. Apparently, the loneliness hit hardest at night, and he needed help sleeping. He’d promised CJ that it was only one drink, after the girls were in bed.

CJ had wanted to believe his brother. For a while, there’d been no reason not to trust Ned’s word. Still, CJ should have been more observant. He should have seen the signs that Ned was slowly spiraling out of control, in the same way their father had.

“Surely your brother will come to his senses and return in a day or two.”

“Perhaps.” CJ spoke without conviction. There was an unmistakable finality to Ned’s actions. By leaving a note that included awarding CJ custody of the twins, his brother had made his intentions clear.

What had Ned been thinking?

CJ knew nothing about raising children, especially girls. He was a rancher, most comfortable around cows and horses. The Triple-T was barely showing a profit. He couldn’t run the ranch and take care of two small children at the same time.

His life had just changed dramatically. He needed to move back into the main house. The twins couldn’t sleep here alone. He’d have to learn new skills, too many to sort through at once.

“I should start breakfast before the girls wake up.”

Molly’s words brought CJ great comfort and reminded him that decisions didn’t have to be made today. Watching her in the pale dawn light, he wondered just how much she did around the house when he was out working the ranch. “I’d be grateful.”

“It’s my pleasure.” She turned quiet, thoughtful. “I see no reason to upset the girls just yet. We probably should tell them as little as possible and hope that Ned changes his mind.”

This was one of the reasons CJ admired Molly. She always put the twins’ needs first. “We’re in agreement.”

Her smile filled him with the sense of peace he craved, but always hovered just out of reach. He cleared his throat. “I’ll head over to the bunkhouse and see if anyone spoke with Ned this morning. Maybe he told one of the men where he was going.”

Or maybe Cookie knew something about Ned’s departure.

Frowning, CJ reached for his hat, slapped it against his thigh. He wasn’t looking forward to speaking with his ranch cook. The grizzled former army captain wouldn’t be sympathetic. He’d warned CJ this day was coming.

CJ had chosen to believe matters weren’t all that dire and that Ned would eventually snap out of his grief.

“We’re moving the herd to the north pasture today.” He paused at the door. “If Ned shows up—”

“I’ll send Cookie to find you.”

“Good enough.” CJ opened the door, paused when Molly called out his name.

He turned back around. The hem of her lavender dress swung in soft waves around her ankles as she approached him. Her eyes, so blue, so beautiful, held the strength of her determination. In that moment, CJ felt a little less alone.

“I want you to know I’m not going anywhere.” She gave him a warm, kind smile that reached inside his heart and squeezed. “We’re in this together. We’ll take it one day at a time.”

She couldn’t know how much her support meant. As he stared into her startling blue eyes, CJ fought to contain thoughts of what might have been, were he a different man. But he couldn’t change who he was or where he came from.

“Thank you, Molly.”

“You’re welcome.”

She was so good, so pure, so beautiful. She deserved better than a Thorn. She’d had better. She’d married a preacher.

CJ could never measure up to a man of God. He wouldn’t even try. All he could do was work to make his ranch a success and ensure that the twins had a safe, stable home. One day at a time, as Molly said, he would provide a secure, loving home for his brother’s children. Who, according to Ned’s note, were now CJ’s.

He jammed his hat on his head. “I’ll see you later this afternoon.”

“The girls and I will be right here.”

For now, that was enough. He turned and walked out of the house. One day at a time, he told himself. With God’s help, CJ would face the future one day at a time.