A Ranch Called Home Page 16

  Sara took a deep breath, then turned her back on the dining room.

  The same way Gabe had turned his back on her.

  She had just placed the scorched pan into a sink of suds and hot water, when the back door opened and Smitty hobbled in. His grunt matched the sour look on his face.

  “Dang-blast it!” he barked in Sara’s direction. “I leave this ranch for one stinking day, and the whole damn place goes to hell in a handbasket. What’s all this nonsense about you and Ben moving to town after Christmas?”

  Sara shot Smitty a warning look. “Don’t start with me, Smitty. If you know Ben and I are moving to Redstone after Christmas, then I’m sure Gabe filled you in on the rest of the story.”

  The old man snorted. “Yeah, Gabe told me his side. Now I’m ready to hear yours.”

  Sara let out a long sigh as she looked at the old man she had grown to love despite his irritating personality. Sara motioned for him to take a seat at the table then started making coffee. Once she had the brew perking, Sara sat beside him.

  “I’m sure my version isn’t any different from the one you’ve already heard from Gabe.”

  Smitty frowned. “And you’re really willing to let some loony tune like Ronnie Kincaid tear your family apart?”

  “This isn’t about Ronnie,” Sara said. “Gabe and I have both been fooling ourselves. We started out trying to do what was best for Ben, and somehow got caught up in the silly notion that our marriage could turn into the real thing.”

  “You mean the two of you won’t let your marriage turn into the real thing,” Smitty argued.

  Sara shook her head in protest. “No, I mean exactly what I said. Gabe and I were doomed from the beginning. I think it will be best if Ben and I find our own place to live.”

  “And I think you and Gabe both deserve a hard kick in the backside for letting your own stubbornness destroy this family,” Smitty declared.

  “And did you inform Gabe of that fact?”

  “You bet I did.”

  “And Gabe’s response?” Sara asked hopefully.

  “What do you think?” Smitty grumbled. “Gabe told me to mind my own business.”

  Sara covered his wrinkled hand with hers. “Then I guess there’s no reason for me to repeat that suggestion, is there?”

  “No,” the old man mumbled. “But when it comes to Ben, I intend to make this my business.” He sent Sara a pleading look. “Don’t you have any idea how much I love that little boy of yours?”

  Sara sniffed. “Of course I know how much you love Ben. Just as I know how much Ben loves you and Gabe. And that’s why I’d never leave Redstone. Ben needs all of us. There simply isn’t any way I can continue living this charade.”

  “It seemed to be working pretty well, if you ask me.”

  “Only on the surface, Smitty,” Sara said. She rose, filled two cups with coffee, then returned to her seat. “I want what Luke and Mary had,” Sara told him. “And if Gabe can’t feel that way about me, I need to move on. For his sake and for mine.”

  A few moments of silence passed between them.

  Smitty sent her a disheartened look. “So? Have you given any thought about how you’re going to support yourself?”

  Was Smitty kidding?

  She’d spent her entire life thinking about how she was going to support herself. She’d always been a backup-plan kind of person out of sheer necessity. Just as she’d always known in the back of her mind playing the role of Gabe’s wife wouldn’t last forever.

  Still, how tragic.

  It hurt to admit she’d been right all along.

  “Well,” Sara said, “Betsy mentioned the old Blake house in town was empty. And that the last people who lived there ran a small restaurant in the lower level.”

  Smitty snorted. “Yeah, and that’s why those people aren’t there now. Redstone already has two restaurants. Even with the tourist overflow we get from the ski resorts, Redstone isn’t big enough to support three full-time restaurants.”

  “But Redstone doesn’t have a bakery.”

  Smitty looked at her for a moment, then he grinned. “No, Redstone doesn’t have a bakery. And that’s a fact.”

  “Does that mean you think a bakery might have a chance of making it in Redstone?”

  “The way you bake? I wouldn’t be surprised if people came all the way from Aspen for one of your apple turnovers.”

  Sara laughed. “No one would drive sixty miles for an apple turnover.”

  “Sure they would,” Smitty said, “if they were fresh from the oven.”

  “Fresh from the oven,” Sara repeated slowly.

  She leaned over and kissed the old man on the cheek.

  Smitty blushed scarlet. “Now why’d you go and do that?”

  “For naming my new bakery,” Sara told him.

  They talked a little longer, with Smitty promising to check around and find out what he could about the Blake house. After he left, Sara took their coffee cups to the sink and dropped them into the soapy water.

  Once again, she was starting over.

  But as frightening as that thought was, in her heart Sara knew she had no other choice. She had to take the first step toward healing the type of self-doubts that had never allowed her to believe she was worthy of love or happiness. She had to learn to believe in herself—to reach out and embrace happiness knowing she deserved it. Only then would she ever be able to give her love to Gabe or anyone else completely.

  It was time to make her own place in Redstone.

  No more just passing through.

  No more being the outsider.

  All of it—or nothing.

  That was Sara’s new motto.

  GABE REMOVED Bruiser’s saddle, but he spent more time than usual grooming the big steed. He’d been in a somber mood all day, dying a little inside one minute at the thought of Sara and Ben leaving the ranch, and consoling himself the next minute with the knowledge that things could have been worse.

  Sara could have gone back to Texas.

  At least he could still be a part of their lives.

  He spent a little more time than needed straightening up the tack room before he reluctantly headed for the house. He wasn’t looking forward to putting on a brave face for Ben. And he definitely wasn’t looking forward to seeing Sara for the first time since their big fight. But if she expected him to walk through the door with a hangdog expression, trying to make her feel sorry for him, she was wrong. He’d told her at the beginning he’d annul the marriage if she wanted out.

  A man was only as good as his word.

  And his word had never been half-assed.

  The minute Gabe opened the kitchen door, Ben bounded out of nowhere and jumped straight into his arms. “Me and Junior saw Santa, Uncle Gabe, and I made sure Santa knew how to find me here at the ranch.”

  Gabe gave his nephew a big hug. He looked over the top of Ben’s head and forced a smile in Sara’s direction. “It sure smells good in here.”

  A look of relief washed across her face.

  Sara had obviously been dreading this moment as much as he had. She mouthed Thank you, before saying, “Supper should be on the table in about twenty minutes. You boys have plenty of time to wash up first.”

  She turned back to the simmering pots on the stove.

  Gabe lowered Ben to the floor. “Ready, partner? You can tell me all about Santa while we wash up.”

  “Junior didn’t pull Santa’s beard,” Ben said as he vaulted up the stairs ahead of Gabe. “He was too scared he wouldn’t get any presents.”

  Gabe laughed and followed Ben to the upstairs bathroom. Their time together in the evenings while they washed up for supper had become a nightly ritual.

  Once inside the bathroom, Ben dragged the small stool Smitty had made for him out of the linen closet. He propped himself against the sink while Gabe opened the medicine cabinet and took out his shaving gear.

  “Will you and Smitty be moving to town with me and Mom after Christmas, Unc
le Gabe?”

  An innocent question, but it hit Gabe like a hammer.

  “Mom says the road to the ranch gets real retcherous in January, and a big boy like me needs to be in town so I won’t miss any school.”

  So that had been Sara’s explanation. She sure hadn’t wasted any time telling Ben.

  But Gabe knew Sara was only giving Ben plenty of time to adjust. It would make it much easier on Ben when it came time for them to leave.

  Gabe squirted a small dab of his shaving cream into Ben’s outstretched hand before he said, “Your mother’s right. The road to the ranch can be treacherous during January. And big boys like you can’t afford to miss any school. But Smitty needs to stay here at the ranch and take care of the livestock. And so do I.”

  Ben patted his baby cheeks with the white foam before he sent Gabe a concerned look. “You won’t give my room to anyone else while I’m gone, will you, Uncle Gabe?”

  Another innocent question—straight to the gut.

  “No way,” Gabe said. “That room belonged to your daddy, and now it belongs to you and no one else.”

  Gabe picked up his razor and raked it down his cheek.

  “But what about Bandit? Can Bandit live with me in town? Or will he have to stay here at the ranch?”

  Gabe rinsed off his razor before he said, “Well, I’m not sure Bandit would enjoy being away from the ranch, Ben. But that doesn’t mean he can’t go to town for a visit now and then.”

  “And will you come to town for a visit now and then, Uncle Gabe?” Ben pressed.

  The questions were killing him.

  “Sure. And on weekends when there isn’t any school, I don’t see why you can’t come here.”

  Ben’s eyes widened. “For a sleepover? Just like at Junior’s?”

  Gabe reached out and ruffled his nephew’s hair. “Just like at Junior’s.”

  Satisfied with his uncle’s answer, Ben reached for the old bladeless razor Smitty had given him and went about his own version of shaving. Once they had both rinsed their razors in the sink, Ben looked up at him and said, “I’m really going to miss you, Uncle Gabe.”

  A searing pain this time, straight to the heart.

  Gabe lifted Ben off the stool and waited until Ben returned the stool to the closet before he said, “I’m going to miss you, too, Ben. But sometimes we have to do things we don’t like because it’s the best thing for us to do.”

  “Like when Mom makes me eat those green peas I hate?”

  Gabe laughed. “I couldn’t have put it better myself.”

  He swung Ben onto his shoulders for their trip to the dining room. And after placing Ben in his chair, Gabe took his own seat at the opposite end of the table from Sara. Everyone automatically bowed their heads for Ben’s nightly prayer.

  Except Gabe.

  He sat rigid in his seat, listening to Ben’s small voice echo through the room, and fully aware of how empty life was going to be when Ben and Sara moved to Redstone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  RONNIE GLANCED at her bedside clock and frowned. It was ten o’clock and Charlie still hadn’t come to her. The thought of his hard, naked body on top of hers drove her crazy most of the time. The same way the thought of his hard, naked body on top of hers was driving her crazy right now.

  She’d told herself for months that what she felt for Charlie was purely physical, but she’d secretly known it was more than that. It was a million different things, when she thought about it. Charlie could be rough and crude when she was in the mood for rough and crude, or he could hold her so tenderly it almost brought tears to her eyes. And to her, tears were as foreign as ballet lessons.

  Charlie accepted her for who she was and didn’t try to change her—not that it would have done him any good to try. He loved her. And he told her he loved her often. The big surprise was Ronnie liked being loved.

  So where the hell was he?

  Ronnie glanced at the clock again. Now it was ten-fifteen. She threw the covers back, left the bed and was dressed in minutes, then started her hunt for her tardy lover. She found Charlie in the bunkhouse playing cards.

  He barely glanced in her direction when she stormed in.

  “Meet me outside,” she ordered.

  “I’m busy.”

  No one at the table said a word.

  They knew better.

  “Then get unbusy,” Ronnie told him.

  Charlie cursed and threw down his cards.

  Ronnie marched out of the bunkhouse. She was halfway across the yard when Charlie caught up with her. He grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. “What’s your damn problem?”

  Ronnie was livid. “Don’t you ever embarrass me in front of my ranch hands like that again.”

  He laughed. “You’re a fine one to talk about embarrassing somebody. Do you think I haven’t heard about the visit you paid Gabe Coulter last night when you didn’t think his wife was home? How embarrassed do you think I am right now? Everybody knows I’ve been sharing your bed.”

  Ronnie lifted her chin. “Nothing happened.”

  “Only because Gabe threw your ass out!”

  “That’s his version,” Ronnie yelled. “I wouldn’t wipe my feet on Gabe Coulter.”

  Charlie stuck a finger under her nose. “And you’re through wiping your feet on me.”

  He stomped toward the barn.

  Ronnie marched after him.

  “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

  Charlie whirled to face her. “Exactly what I said. I’m done, Ronnie. You did what you set out to do. Gabe’s wife is leaving him.”

  Ronnie’s mouth dropped open. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Believe it,” Charlie said. “Just don’t expect me to stick around for Gabe’s sloppy seconds. I’m leaving in the morning. And I won’t be back.”

  He marched off again.

  “Come back here, dammit!” Ronnie called out as she followed.

  If Gabe hadn’t acted like such an ass when he stormed into the dining room, she would have apologized as she’d planned. But Gabe had looked at her with such contempt in his eyes that a lifetime of rejection had thrown her into a full-blown rage. She’d lashed out in anger—the only way she knew how.

  And now it was costing her everything she wanted.

  “Dammit, Charlie. Stop and listen to me for a minute.”

  Charlie didn’t stop until they reached the barn. When he did turn around he grabbed Ronnie by the shoulders and shook her so hard her teeth rattled. “No, you listen to me. Only God knows why I love you, Ronnie. You sure as hell aren’t an easy person to love. But I know you. Gabe’s free now. And you’ll never be able to leave him alone.”

  “Yes, I will,” Ronnie vowed. “I swear it.”

  Charlie pushed her away.

  But Ronnie grabbed his arm. “I want you, Charlie.” It was the closest thing to begging Ronnie had ever done when she added, “Please. Tell me. What can I do to convince you of that?”

  He jerked his arm free, unimpressed. “Patch things up with Gabe and his wife. Until you do, don’t come looking for me.”

  He spun around and headed to the bunkhouse.

  Ronnie stood there, too shocked to move.

  Gabe and Sara Coulter both hated her guts and Charlie damn well knew it. He’d picked the one thing he knew she couldn’t do. And he’d done so on purpose.

  “Screw you, Charlie Biggs!”

  The loud bang as Charlie slammed the bunkhouse door only made Ronnie more angry. She stomped across the yard, stormed into the house and slammed her front door even harder.

  Let Charlie leave. Good damn riddance!

  Gabe’s wife might be a twit, but the woman wasn’t stupid. She’d make Gabe squirm and threaten to take the kid away from him, but they’d be back together by the end of the week. Then who was going to feel like a first-class fool? That’s right. Charlie.

  The slam of her bedroom door only fueled Ronnie’s fury. She kicked off her boots, ripped off her
shirt and wiggled out of her jeans. She threw her right boot at the mirror over her dresser, shattering glass all over her bedroom floor. Her left boot sailed through the air and knocked the picture of her sitting on her first pony off the wall with a loud thud.

  Charlie would be back.

  She was sure of it.

  But when he did come crawling back begging her forgiveness, she had news for Charlie. She’d laugh in his stupid, good-for-nothing face.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  SARA AND BETSY WAITED until the pretty real estate agent in the bright gold blazer unlocked the door to the Blake house and ushered them inside. The blonde, Karen, had driven from Aspen to show them the property. And she’d brought her high-rent-district attitude along with her.

  “The lease is fifteen hundred a month,” Karen said. “A little steep for a town the size of Redstone, but it’s the price you pay for being on the main street.”

  Sara walked across the sizable front room.

  “The kitchen is right through those doors, and there’s plenty of living space upstairs.”

  Sara peered into the spacious kitchen.

  “The homey atmosphere should be perfect for a bakery,” Karen assured them. “Atmosphere, after all, is what most tourists are looking for when they come to a quaint little town like Redstone. Add a few rustic tables and chairs in here and it’ll look perfect.”

  “The place does have charm,” Betsy agreed.

  “Yes, it does,” Sara said, “but it’s been sitting empty well over a year. And even with it being on Redstone Boulevard, it’s still on the lower end of town. That makes me doubt the location. I also have to consider the improvements I’d have to make before I could open the bakery. The floors are scarred, the walls need painting, and this is just the downstairs. We haven’t even seen the upstairs yet.” Sara glanced at Karen.

  She forced a smile and said, “But the upstairs isn’t something you would have to worry about immediately. You could postpone any improvements you wanted to make until the bakery began showing a profit.”