A Ranch Called Home Page 14

  As they started up the steep incline to the ranch, it crossed Gabe’s mind that neither he nor Sara had said a word since they left the Graham house. And that was what total contentment meant in his book—being so comfortable with someone you never had to say a word.

  He squeezed Sara’s hand.

  She squeezed back.

  Only one thing bothered Gabe. Sara still hadn’t moved her things into his bedroom. He suspected she was waiting until their six-month trial period was officially over. He hadn’t pushed her to give up her own bedroom. He’d held back, giving her time to make that decision on her own.

  But it didn’t keep him from worrying.

  Having his own family had shown him what the love of a good woman and a child could bring into a man’s life. Gabe didn’t want to lose that.

  And with that thought in mind, Gabe said, “I was only teasing earlier, you know. As crazy as I am about that sexy body of yours you mean far more to me than just nightly dessert.”

  Sara sent him an impish grin. “What’s the problem, cowboy? Is that your way of trying to back out of dessert tonight?”

  “Oh, I’m ready for dessert,” Gabe said, sending her a sultry look. “You can count on that.”

  “Can I have more dessert, too, Mom?” a groggy voice called out from the backseat.

  Gabe and Sara both laughed.

  But the meaningful look they exchanged said it all.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “IF I EAT another bite,” Gabe said, “I’ll never be able to get out of this chair.”

  Sara smiled when Gabe pushed himself back from the dining room table with a loud groan. He’d accused her lately of trying to fatten him up. But as hard as Gabe worked on the ranch, Sara knew it would take more than her Thanksgiving turkey to put even a pound on his rock-hard frame.

  The rest of the men gathered around the dining room table never took their eyes from their plates.

  “Not me,” Smitty said. “I could use one more piece of that pecan pie, missy.”

  Sara gladly passed the pie in Smitty’s direction. Watching these men enjoy the first Thanksgiving meal she’d prepared for her new family meant more to Sara than any of them realized.

  “And I want more chocolate-affair cake, Mom,” Ben announced, causing all seven men to laugh.

  “It’s chocolate éclair cake, Ben,” Sara corrected, but she didn’t miss the fixed stare Gabe was sending her.

  It constantly amazed her that something as innocent as a slip of the tongue had the power to send shock waves vibrating through both of them. In fact, the intensity of their passion almost scared Sara sometimes. When their eyes locked again, Sara thought she could actually feel the heat pass between them.

  But their silent communication also reminded her she was running out of excuses about moving into Gabe’s bedroom permanently.

  Ben and Smitty had long since gotten used to them as a couple. She and Gabe were openly affectionate with each other in front of both of them. Still, something held her back. And try as she may, Sara couldn’t put a finger on it.

  “What’s really wrong, Sara?” Gabe had asked her point-blank when she’d moved to go to her own bedroom last night.

  She hadn’t missed the hurt in his eyes. And she knew he hadn’t liked her answer when she told him she wasn’t sure, only that she needed more time. He’d agreed, but she was well aware that Gabe’s patience was beginning to wearing thin.

  She chewed absently at her bottom lip as she passed another pie to one of the ranch hands.

  At first she’d told herself she was only holding back because their six months weren’t officially over. But this was the end of November, and as Gabe had reminded her last night, there were only a few days left until the six-month deadline lapsed.

  Maybe after Christmas she would finally let herself believe she and Gabe had a real marriage and would stay together forever. Maybe putting an end to this year and starting a brand-new one would make her feel better about moving her things into his bedroom on a permanent basis.

  Maybe then she’d feel as if she really belonged.

  “No, it was Sara’s marble pound cake, not the chocolate éclair cake, that won her first prize at the county fair,” Smitty argued, snapping Sara back to the conversation going on around the table.

  “I like her sticky buns best,” one of the hands said.

  Sticky buns.

  Sara looked up. Gabe had one eyebrow arched.

  “Maybe Sara should open her own bakery,” Slim mentioned, sending Sara a shy look. “Redstone’s never had a bakery before.”

  Sara laughed. “Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, Slim, but like everyone else around here, I’m too busy to take on an outside job.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Smitty agreed. He turned to Gabe and said, “Speaking of being busy, do you still want me to deliver those two horses to Denver tomorrow?”

  Gabe nodded. “And I’ll need you to pick up a few pieces of equipment I’ve ordered, too. Take the flatbed truck to pull the horse trailer. And take someone with you to help load the equipment.”

  “Guess that means we’ll be staying overnight, then,” Smitty said. “You know I don’t like driving these roads after dark once the snow starts.”

  “Ben and I are going to be gone tomorrow, too,” Sara reminded Gabe. “I told Betsy I’d drive to Grand Junction.”

  “Yeah, Uncle Gabe,” Ben said. “Santa’s coming to the mall to see me and Junior. And Junior’s gonna pull his beard to see if it’s fake.”

  Everyone at the table laughed.

  A few minutes passed before Gabe looked at Sara and said, “Maybe you and Betsy should think about spending the night in Grand Junction and starting back on Saturday, too. Smitty’s right. It isn’t safe driving these roads with so much snow on the ground.”

  Sara’s heart instantly went out to Gabe. She knew exactly what he was thinking.

  “I’ll call Betsy as soon as I clear the table,” Sara promised. “I’m sure she’d love to spend the night in Grand Junction. That will give us more time to do our Christmas shopping.”

  “Wow!” Ben chimed in. “Do me and Junior get our own room, Mom?”

  “Junior and I,” Sara corrected. “And no. We can all stay in one room together.”

  “Cool,” Ben said. “Motels are fun.”

  Sara looked back at Gabe.

  Motel had turned up the heat one more notch.

  THE MORNING AFTER Thanksgiving Sara sent a wary look toward the black Suburban parked in front of Jones Country Store where she needed to stop for gas. The menacing Miss Kincaid, however, didn’t appear to be anywhere in sight.

  They’d crossed each other’s paths several times since Founder’s Day, but, other than a few mean looks, Ronnie had kept her distance. Still, Sara suspected that a face-to-face showdown between them was inevitable at some point.

  Gabe had, after all, chosen her. No woman took that kind of rejection lightly.

  “Maybe we should get gas farther down the road,” Betsy said, following Sara’s gaze to the Suburban.

  “No,” Sara said, pulling the Cherokee up to the pumps. “I don’t intend to spend the rest of my life trying to avoid her. If she still has a problem with Gabe’s decision to marry me, it’s her problem, not mine.”

  “You go, girl,” Betsy said, but she nodded toward the backseat. “Still, I think the boys and I should wait in the Jeep. Just to be on the safe side.”

  “Not a bad idea,” Sara agreed, glancing in the backseat. To her relief, Ben and Junior both seemed to be unaware of anything except the two Game Boys that had their full attention.

  Sara pumped her gas without incident.

  When she headed into the store to pay, Hank Jones looked up from the newspaper he had spread on the counter and greeted her with a wide smile. “I heard you and Betsy were going to Grand Junction for a little Christmas shopping,” the old man said when Sara stopped in front of the counter. “And it’s a good thing you’re getting an early st
art.” He looked down at his watch. “You’ll be in Grand Junction by the time the mall opens and before the crowds get heavy.”

  It amazed Sara at how even the most trivial information seemed to be big news in Redstone.

  “I wouldn’t have even considered going to the mall the day after Thanksgiving if Santa wasn’t making his big appearance. But the boys wore us down.”

  “Good thing you’ve decided to stay over tonight, too,” Hank said. Sara sent him a surprised look so he added, “Smitty was in here earlier. Said Gabe told you to come back tomorrow. After what happened to Luke and Mary, Gabe has good reason to worry about you and the boy driving up that road with so much snow on the ground.”

  Sara forced a smile, but she made a mental note to speak to Smitty about being more discreet with the personal details of their lives. Though Sara doubted it would do any good. She accepted her change with a quick nod and hurried for the door before the man had an opportunity to pry even further.

  “You be careful, now,” Hank called out after her. “And watch out for those crazy drivers in Grand Junction. They’ll run you right off the road if you let them.”

  “Thanks for the warning. And tell Marge I said Happy Holidays.”

  The second Sara slid behind the wheel of the Cherokee, Betsy said, “Well?”

  Sara shook her head. “No problem. Hank was the only one in the store.”

  After they pulled away, Betsy said, “I was just thinking. If you’re getting brave enough to take Ronnie on, it must mean things are going pretty well with you and Gabe.”

  “Please don’t jinx me, Betsy. I’m so happy sometimes I pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.”

  Betsy raised an eyebrow. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

  “No. I haven’t moved my things yet.”

  “But Sara, that’s just plain silly,” Betsy said. “What’s the problem?”

  “I swear, Betsy, I don’t know.”

  “Well, if limiting your husband to a quickie every night doesn’t suck the romance right out of a relationship, I don’t know what will.”

  Sara sent a nervous look in her rearview mirror.

  The games still had the boys’ full attention.

  “I know I’m pushing Gabe to the limit, Betsy. And I know he isn’t happy about it. But—”

  “You know what your problem is?” As usual, Betsy answered her own question. “You and Gabe have never had the luxury of being completely alone with no one else to worry about. You said yourself you always have one ear open listening for either Ben or Smitty.”

  “True,” Sara agreed. If it wasn’t Ben needing one more glass of water, it was Smitty banging around in the kitchen late at night for some warm milk for his insomnia.

  “And that’s what you and Gabe need. One night alone together. No interruptions.”

  “And you know that isn’t possible.”

  “But didn’t you say Smitty was spending the night in Denver tonight?”

  “Yes,” Sara said, “and we’re spending the night in Grand Junction, remember?”

  Betsy grinned. “How are you at power shopping?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I say we take the boys to see Santa. We power shop our heads off. Then we head right back to Redstone. You can’t miss this opportunity, Sara. Who knows how long it will be before Smitty is out of town again.”

  “And what about Ben?”

  Betsy turned in her seat. “Hey, guys,” she said. “Instead of staying in Grand Junction tonight, how would you like it if we come back home after you see Santa and Ben stays with us for a sleepover?”

  “Wow. Can I, Mom?” Ben asked. “I’ve never been to a sleepover before.”

  “Please, Miss Sara,” Junior chimed in.

  Sara looked over at Betsy. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”

  “Oh, pooh,” Betsy said. “I insist.”

  The boys gave each other a high-five.

  Betsy leaned toward Sara and whispered, “By the time Ben and Smitty get home tomorrow, I guarantee you and Gabe will be sharing the same closet.”

  Sara blushed.

  “Speed up, girlfriend. We’ve got to get you back to the Crested-C in time to give Gabe an early Christmas present.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  SARA CHECKED the oven one last time and glanced at her watch. She had thirty minutes to make herself presentable before Gabe and the boys returned from the northern border of the ranch. She knew they’d intended to spend the day checking for damage the heavy snowfall might have done to the fences.

  By dusk, they’d be back.

  Thankfully, everything was ready and waiting for Gabe to arrive. Her crown roast—Gabe’s favorite—was almost done. The champagne was chilling. And since she had already intended to stay in Grand Junction overnight, she’d loaded down the bunkhouse refrigerator the night before with enough Thanksgiving leftovers to last a full week.

  That meant the ranch hands would all go straight to the bunkhouse when they returned. And Gabe would find more than a cold turkey sandwich waiting for him when he walked through the door.

  Sara smiled, thinking how surprised Gabe would be. She’d even thought to park the Cherokee at the back of the house so Gabe wouldn’t see it from the barn. He’d come through the door thinking he was entering an empty house. And what he’d find instead was her, dressed in the skimpy little black dress she’d bought in Grand Junction.

  Walking into the dining room, Sara checked the table one last time, pleased with her candlelit dinner-for-two preparations. She reached out and rearranged the bottle of champagne, then ran her fingers over the delicate roses etched into the ornate silver ice bucket that had belonged to Gabe’s mother.

  “Roses were Mary’s favorite,” Smitty had told her once, making Sara think of the framed wedding portrait of Luke and Mary in Gabe’s office. Before she headed upstairs, Sara went to look at their picture.

  How young and full of hope they both seemed. Luke tall and proud. Mary beaming from the knowledge that the man she married had stood before God and everyone else and pledged his life to her alone.

  According to Smitty, the whole town had attended the ceremony. He’d told Sara about the wedding during one of the chats that had become their morning routine when he came in for his grocery list.

  “Biggest wedding ever to hit Redstone,” he’d said. “Luke and Mary were married out on the front lawn.” He’d reminisced about how Mary had ridden up the long driveway in a horse-drawn carriage decorated with pink and white roses. “Everyone said Mary was the most beautiful bride they ever saw. And that’s a fact.”

  Stepping closer to the portrait, Sara couldn’t help but admire the Victorian-style wedding dress Mary had made herself. The dress was carefully stored in a cedar chest in Sara’s room. She would have loved to have worn that dress the day she married Gabe.

  But there was no point in idle wishes.

  Nor did it serve any purpose dreaming of things that weren’t meant to be. Better instead to focus on what she could have—an intimate dinner alone with the man she loved completely, followed by an entire night of blissful and totally uninterrupted lovemaking.

  Untying her apron, Sara walked out of Gabe’s office and right into her worst enemy.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Ronnie’s mocking smile was lethal. “I was about to ask you the same thing. I thought you were staying in Grand Junction tonight.”

  Panic seized Sara for a moment.

  But reason calmed her back down. “Are you implying Gabe invited you here?”

  “Are you stupid enough to believe that he didn’t?”

  It was on the tip of Sara’s tongue to tell Ronnie to leave. To get out of her house and never come back. She tried, but Sara couldn’t spit the words out. And the longer she stared at Ronnie, the more clear it became why she couldn’t. This wasn’t her house. It was Gabe’s house. And it would never be her house as long as she settled for being Gabe’s afterthought wife.
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  “I am stupid enough to believe Gabe didn’t invite you here, Ronnie. I just didn’t realize how stupid I’ve been about everything else.”

  Sara took a step forward.

  Ronnie took two steps back.

  “If you’re smart you’ll leave before Gabe gets home,” Sara told her. She shoved her apron into Ronnie’s midsection, pushed past Ronnie and headed for the kitchen.

  “And if you’re smart you’ll stay gone!” Ronnie yelled.

  Sara never looked back.

  She grabbed her coat and purse from the coatrack. She lifted the keys to the Cherokee from the rack. She slammed the kitchen door behind her. But she didn’t let herself cry until she reached the gateposts marking the entrance to the Crested-C Ranch.

  Turning off the ignition, Sara sat there for almost thirty minutes, tears streaming down her cheeks. She knew what she had to do. And she knew the big risk she’d be taking if she found the courage to do it. How am I ever going to explain to Ben if we have to leave?

  Before her heart betrayed her, Sara turned the ignition, then drove decidedly through the gates of the Crested-C Ranch.

  SIX MONTHS EARLIER Ronnie would have been thrilled that Sara stormed off the Crested-C because of her. But now, Ronnie found Sara’s leaving a hollow victory at best.

  And that’s what she got for listening to town gossip.

  And for letting her pride get the better of her.

  Damn Hank Jones! Ronnie fumed.

  The old fart had purposely needled her in front of a store full of customers. Throwing it in her face that Gabe was so in love with his new wife he’d told her to stay in Grand Junction rather than risk her driving icy roads at night. Yet, as Ronnie walked into the dining room, she couldn’t for the life of her understand why Hank’s teasing had made her so angry earlier.

  She hadn’t even thought about Gabe in months.

  She’d been too busy.

  Busy with her own life—and with Charlie.

  Thinking about Charlie struck a chord of fear deep inside Ronnie’s soul. What if he didn’t believe that she never would have shown up if she’d known Sara was home? Or that the only reason she’d even stopped by the Crested-C was to rattle Gabe’s chain a little—to pay him back for…