Arlene James - Winning The Rancher's Heart

“Jeri, this here is our brother Jacoby. Jake, Jeri Bogman.”

Jake nodded at Jeri but spoke to Ryder. “Heard you’ve had quite a day already.”

“Nothing much out of the ordinary,” Ryder said lightly, pulling out the chair for Jeri.

She glanced around, feeling surprised by that small gesture and foolish for the surge of pleasure it had given her. Ryder stood with his hand on his own chair while she took her seat, aware that everyone was looking at her. Only after she was seated did Ryder pull out the chair next to her and drop down into it.

“How come you’re so late then?” Jake asked. “I thought I was gonna have to go looking for y’all.”

Ryder calmly started eating. “No need for that. So, how’s business? This storm going to put a kink in things?”

“Already has.” Jake talked about charging batteries at two different farms that morning. “The cold weather zaps a weak battery. But I wound up hauling in a broken-down Jeep for restoration. Thing must be sixty years old.”

“Which means you can’t wait to get your hands on it,” Ryder said, grinning.

“Mechanics make house calls here?” Jeri asked.

Everyone else laughed. “Mechanics, veterinarians, doctors, even the grocer if the need is great enough,” Ryder said.

“The grocer in town kindly delivered for us a few times after Mom first came home from the hospital,” Kathryn said softly, “but he’s so limited in what he can offer.” A brief explanation of the accident that had paralyzed Kathryn’s mother followed.

“Folks have to be real neighborly when most conveniences are thirty or forty miles away,” Ryder commented.

“I don’t mind driving out to help someone,” Jake said, glancing at Jeri. “Good way to scope out the surrounding area.”

Obviously, he’d been told that she was shopping for property.

“If this storm is as bad as they’re predicting,” she said, “I may have to wait a few days to start looking around.”

Jake rose then. “Speaking of the weather, I better get back to the shop while I can.” Grinning at Ryder, he added, “Unless the roads ice over, I’ve only got an hour or so to tear into that Jeep before Dean drops off his grandmother’s car for new brakes.” Kathryn quickly rose and followed her husband to the door, where the two whispered farewells and briefly kissed.

Leaning toward Jeri, Ryder softly muttered, “Newlyweds.”

The sound, so close to Jeri’s ear, sent shivers through her. Frowning, she leaned forward and focused on her plate. That wasn’t the thrill of attraction, she told herself; that was revulsion. Whatever it was, it sank her mood into the doldrums.

Wyatt quickly finished his meal and got up to carry his plate to the sink. Kathryn rinsed it and placed it in the dishwasher while Wyatt headed toward the door.

“Where are you off to now?” Tina asked, following him.

“I’m going to rearrange the storage room,” he told her. “Since Jake moved out, it’s been a jumble in there.”

“He says he left some things behind,” Kathryn remarked. “If you’ll set aside anything of his, we’ll get it out of your way.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Wyatt told her, taking his coat from a peg on the wall.

Ryder gulped down a big bite and pushed back his chair. “I’ll help you.”

“No, no. You’ve barely had time to warm up. Finish eating, then go lift your precious weights or see if Jake needs help. Better yet, see to that foot.”

As Wyatt pulled his gloves and muffler from his coat, what sounded like a herd of cattle rumbled down the stairs. A heartbeat later, two small boys and two dogs ran into the room. The dogs, one a pup, went straight to the food and water bowls next to the stove and parked there hopefully, tails wagging.

The older boy, a strawberry blond whose shirtsleeves were too short, went to Tina, declaring, “We’re hungry, Mom. Can we have a snack?”

“You just had lunch.”

“Actually, that was nearly three hours ago,” Kathryn said, catching the smaller boy, who threw his arms around her.

Tina sighed. “Oh, all right. Dinner will be late, anyway.”

The dogs gave up their vigil at the food bowls and moved to the door as Wyatt, who had finished outfitting himself for the cold, reached for the knob.

“Let the dogs go with you, dear,” Tina said, “and don’t stay out there too long.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he told her. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

He allowed the dogs to follow him through the door, pulling it closed behind them.

“KKay, I want stauburries,” the smaller boy announced.

Kathryn smoothed her hand over his dark head. “We don’t have any strawberries .” She pronounced the word carefully. “How about sliced apples and peanut butter for a snack?”

“Yay!”

He ran to Ryder, who drew the boy up to straddle his knee. “Unca Ryder, we got apples an’ peanut budder. Want some?”

“No, thanks.” Ryder hugged the boy. “I’m having another helping of this potpie, though.” Ryder reached around the child to serve himself.

“What’s this about your foot?” Tina asked, waddling back to the table.

Before he could answer, the boy on Ryder’s knee pointed a finger at Jeri. “Who dat?”

“That’s Miss Jeri,” Ryder answered. “She’s our guest.” He waved a hand between the two boys, saying to Jeri, “These are my nephews, Tyler and Frankie.”

Jeri made herself smile at the boys, but she felt off-balance. Ryder Smith wasn’t supposed to be a helpful brother and doting uncle. He wasn’t supposed to make her shiver or want to join in the conversation. He shouldn’t be long-suffering and patient. She shouldn’t appreciate his handling of the horses or find him the most attractive of the Smith brothers. He was a fiend, a villain.

Kathryn brought over two small plates filled with sliced apples, crackers and globs of peanut butter. Frankie slid off Ryder’s knee and right onto his foot. Ryder grimaced.

“Ryder Dodd Smith,” Tina said, folding her arms above the swell of her belly. “What did you do to your foot?”

He shrugged sheepishly. “Something fell on it.”

Jeri tried not to wince as guilt swept through her. She told herself that he deserved a couple of smashed toes, but she couldn’t quite believe it somehow. Especially when he protected her by leaving her culpability out of it.

Tina rolled her eyes. “Get that boot off.” She turned toward the back of the house, saying, “Kathryn, we’re going to need some hot water and then ice packs. I’ll get the Epsom salts.”

Sighing, Ryder sent an apologetic glance at Jeri and started eating again. Kathryn went to heat water.

Feeling as slimy as a slug, Jeri beat a hasty retreat, mumbling that she needed to make a phone call. If she didn’t speak to her mother soon, she was going to lose her nerve. These Smiths were too...normal...too likable, especially Ryder.

As she climbed the stairs, she heard something hitting the roof of the house. Too sharp to be rain and too light to be hail, the sound grew louder as she reached the landing and made her way down the hall to her room. Pushing aside the ruffled curtain, she looked out at the crystalline ice beginning to coat the bare limbs of the trees in the side yard. Within moments, the lawn was sparkling white and the outside of the window had begun to glaze over.

Jeri felt trapped in a prison of her own making.

No. She shook her head. Ryder Smith had made this prison for her family when he killed her little brother. And he had to pay for that. God was going to make him pay for that. She had to believe God would make him pay.

For her own sake, as well as her mother’s, she must make sure of it.