Beth Cornelison - Rancher's Deadly Reunion

“Do you know any more jokes?” Connor asked, his cheeks flushed and eyes bright with his amusement.

Piper scoured her memory for one of the lame riddles she and her brothers had told each other years ago. “What is black and white and red all over?”

“A zebra with a sun burn!” Connor shouted, clearly pleased with himself.

The boy’s mirth elicited an answering chuckle from her. The music of Connor’s giggles fed her soul. Laughing loosened the knots of tension that had kinked inside her the moment she spotted Brady across the airport lobby. More than that, goofing around with the little boy was a release she’d needed from the pressures and worries of her sixty-hour-a-week job and a few high-maintenance friends in Boston.

When was the last time she’d allowed herself to be silly? To laugh with the kind of carefree abandon that Connor enjoyed? Not that she didn’t share light moments with her friends and coworkers in Boston. She did. But with Connor there was no agenda, no drama. Just a little boy enjoying bad puns and simple irony.

Connor delivered the punch line of a joke she realized she’d missed as she was musing, but she groaned and grinned as if she’d been paying attention. As he started another riddle, Piper had the odd sensation of being watched. She’d experienced the prickling sensation at the back of her neck frequently over the past few months, so she knew the unsettling feeling well. Her gaze flew to the driver’s seat, and she found Brady staring at her via the rearview mirror. His gaze locked with hers, a strange, unreadable expression sculpting his face. The odd look held a note of intimacy, but also an edgy curiosity. Was it wariness? Fear? What did Brady have to fear from her? She didn’t have long to analyze his expression before his attention darted back to the road.

Connor, too, had fallen oddly quiet, eyeing them, then turning his gaze out the window and shifting restlessly in his booster seat. The boy’s brow beetled, and he said, “Uncle Brady, is this the road where Mama and Daddy died?”

Piper stilled, and a cold sorrow sliced through her.

Brady’s hand tightened around the steering wheel, and he again glanced in the rearview mirror, this time to study his nephew. “Yeah, it is.” He paused, then added, “But not this part. Their accident happened the other direction from the big city.”

“Oh,” was all Connor replied, still staring out the window.

Piper rubbed her thumb over the knuckles of her opposite hand, keeping a concerned gaze on Connor and regretting the lost conviviality. How was the boy handling the death of his parents? Knowing the challenge Brady had faced, taking custody of a newly orphaned boy while dealing with his own grief over Scott and Pam’s deaths filled her with a new respect for her longtime friend. Brady had dealt with a lot more obligations and hardships than other men his age, even when he and Piper been involved as teenagers. The loss of his mother and his father’s heavy drinking had meant he’d had to grow up fast and take on more family responsibility, especially after Scott married and moved out of town.

“Connor?” Brady said softly. “You all right, buddy?”

The boy heaved a mature-sounding sigh. “Yeah.” Then, “I miss them.”

Brady nodded. “Me, too, buddy.”

Piper tightened her fists in her lap, hurting for Connor, for Brady. Scott and Pam had only been gone nine months. Their deaths had to still be a raw and confusing subject for Connor.

After another minute or two of strained silence in the truck, Piper searched for another joke to tell, a distracting question to redirect Connor’s thoughts and lighten the mood. Or was that even the right move? Should she follow Brady’s lead and let Connor work through this moment on his own? All she knew was that her heart hurt for the little boy, and her instinct was to do something, anything, to put a smile back on his face. But what did she know about parenting?

While she was debating, Connor said, “Hey, Piper?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“What do you call a wet bear?”

She released the breath she held and flashed a warm smile at the boy. “I don’t know.”

“A drizzily bear.” He shot her a quick grin, then turned back to his window, falling quiet again. “My dad told me that one.”

“That’s a good one,” she said and patted his knobby knee.

Connor twisted his mouth and wrinkled his nose. “My mom and dad died in a car accident.”

Her grip on his knee tightened. “I know, sweetie. I’m so sorry.”

“I live with Uncle Brady and Grampa now. At the Double M.”

Piper nodded. “Do you like the ranch?”

His face brightened a bit. “It smells bad ’cause of all the animal poop, but you get used to it.”

She couldn’t help but snort a chuckle at the boy’s bluntness. Having grown up on the ranch, she’d never really noticed or cared about the odors that accompanied all the animals. For her, the scents of oiled leather and freshly cut alfalfa were sweeter than roses.

“Riding horses and helping Uncle Brady with the cows is fun,” Connor added.

“Well, I’ve been away from the ranch for a lot of months, so my riding may be rusty.” She tipped her head and gave the boy a dubious frown. “Would you help me with my horse while I’m visiting this week?”

Connor sat taller and grinned. “Sure! I’m good at saddling and riding.” He glanced to his uncle, adding, “Aren’t I, Brady?”

“You are, little man. That you are.” Brady sent Connor a proud grin as he met his nephew’s gaze in the mirror. “When we get home, Grampa will have dinner waiting, so I want you to go straight back to the house and wash up. Okay?”

“Y’sir.”

Home . Piper turned her attention to the scenery passing outside her window. She’d been so absorbed in Connor that she’d not realized how close they were getting to the Double M. The beef-cattle ranch had been in her family for three generations. She’d grown up around muddy boots, bleating calves and horse tails swishing away flies. Her parents and brothers still lived on and worked the ranch, and someday she’d inherit one third of the Double M.

But was the ranch still her home? She’d been gone seven years. Seven eventful years. She’d done a lot of growing up since she left the Double M. She’d earned her degree in finance, gotten her first nine-to-five job with a finance company, set herself up in an apartment that she’d decorated to her taste.

And she’d made the toughest decisions of her life to give birth to, then give away, Brady’s baby.

She swallowed hard and pressed her hand to her stomach. The memory always caused a guilty roil in her gut. She’d made the best decision she could as a scared eighteen-year-old, but that didn’t mean she didn’t constantly second-guess herself.

As Brady took an unexpected exit from the interstate, Piper glanced up, confused. “Where are you going?”

He angled his head toward her. “Ice cream. Remember?”

Connor sat taller, and his face brightened. “Yay! I’m gonna get chocolate, too, Piper!”

“One scoop, buddy. And you have to promise to eat your vegetables at dinner,” Brady said, one eyebrow arched.

She shook her head slightly. When had Brady turned into such a...a... parent ?

The answer came to her, and her stomach curled in on itself. She really had no appetite for ice cream. No desire to extend the awkwardness between her and Brady. She only wanted to get to the ranch and decompress after her flight, unwind the tension that had coiled in her the instant she’d spotted Brady. But she’d be damned if she’d be party to disappointing Connor, a boy whose world had been so thoroughly devastated in recent months. For Connor’s sake, she’d paste on a smile, eat a chocolate ice cream cone and endure a few more taut minutes playing nice with the one man who still had the power to break her heart.