Reunited With The Rancher. Brenda Minton

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Reunited With The Rancher - Brenda  Minton


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      If either of the children woke, he’d hear them or see them as they came down the stairs.

      He had expected to see Kylie in the kitchen. Instead Isaac stood at the sink filling a coffee pot with water. He glanced at Carson, grinned, then went back to work.

      “Expected someone prettier, did you?” Isaac poured the water in the coffeemaker. “She’s working dogs. Want some breakfast? Or are you heading out early? Chicago is waiting.”

      “In a hurry to get rid of me?”

      “I like the kids. You I could do without. I can do without your suspicious looks. I can do without your judgment. So can Jack. You haven’t lived his life. Have you ever been to war? Have you ever wondered if the last shot you took...”

      Isaac shook his head, raising a hand when Carson tried to tell him they didn’t need to have this conversation.

      Isaac poured himself a cup of coffee. “We have to talk about the fact that you think you know everything. But until you talk to people and find out their side, their experiences, you don’t know them. And you don’t know your father...”

      Carson grabbed a cup from the cabinet and watched the coffee drip into the pot, ignoring the younger man that he assumed was his brother. He should just ask. As Isaac said, you don’t know a person until you know their story.

      “You’re probably right. But I guess that goes both ways. You don’t know my story, either.” Carson met Isaac’s gaze, held it for a minute.

      “Shoot,” Isaac said as he raised his cup.

      “Shoot?”

      “Go ahead. Tell me your story.”

      Carson shook his head. “Where’s Jack?”

      “Gone to town already. You can’t keep a good man down.” And he put emphasis on good.

      Carson glanced out the window and saw Kylie heading toward the house. She was dressed in boots, jeans and a T-shirt. A dog followed along behind her. She was smiling, talking to the animal. For whatever reason, she made this place bearable.

      “Is that why you’re still here?” Isaac said, more of a teasing tone in his voice.

      “No. I’m here because Jack had an angina attack last night and because I couldn’t put Andy and Maggie back in the car after the long day of driving we had yesterday. They needed a chance to rest.”

      “Right. Of course.” Isaac finished his coffee and put the cup in the dishwasher. “The past has a way of catching up with us. Now if you’ll excuse me, Doc, I have work to do. If you’re bored, you can always saddle up and help out. Do you remember how to ride a horse?”

      “I remember how to ride a horse, but I have Andy and Maggie, if you remember. And I need to check on Jack.”

      The door opened and Kylie entered, looking from one to the other of them. She carried a basket of fall tomatoes and squash that she put on the counter before heading for the coffee.

      “Are the two of you circling each other like old barn cats?” she asked as she grabbed a cup.

      Isaac grinned at Carson as he headed for the door. “Nah, only one of us remembers what a barn looks like. Carson is more of a domesticated house cat.”

      “If Kylie will watch the kids, I’ll meet you out there in fifteen minutes.”

      “I didn’t realize you’d be so easily triggered.” Isaac laughed. “Do you even have boots?”

      “I’m sure Jack has a pair I can fit into.”

      “Suit yourself.” Isaac headed for the back door.

      “Would you be able to watch Andy and Maggie for me?” Carson asked Kylie.

      “I don’t mind, but I do have work to do today. And we need to talk about Jack’s suggestion of a service dog for Andy.”

      Her tone was cool, professional. It didn’t match her. It didn’t match the warmth of her expression, or the freckles that dusted her nose. It was for him, that cool, distant tone. It was meant to keep him at arm’s length.

      He should have appreciated the gesture. Instead it had him feeling as if he was missing something.

      “What’s your opinion on a service dog?” he asked.

      “I did some research this morning. I think the idea has merit. A service dog for a child with autism can help with social settings and sleep patterns, can stop repetitive behaviors and can also keep him from wandering.”

      Impressive. She’d done her homework. He had thought he’d done everything possible to give his son the most opportunities, including this planned move to Chicago. But he hadn’t considered a service dog.

      “If I did this, would it take time to train the dog? Would we need to come back?”

      “You would have to stay,” she said as she pulled a carton of eggs out of the fridge.

      He couldn’t see her face but he knew the idea of them staying bothered her. He knew his reasons for wanting to leave, but her reasons for wanting them gone were a mystery.

      “Stay. As in, for a day or two?”

      “A few weeks.” She began cracking eggs in a bowl. “Do you want an omelet?”

      He watched as she worked. “Is it the idea of Jack giving us a dog that has you upset, or is it the idea of me staying?”

      She looked up, guilt written across her face. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I want Andy to have a dog. I think it would change his life.”

      “But you don’t want me here,” he said with as much of a smile as he could muster.

      “I didn’t say that. I didn’t mean to even imply it.”

      But he got the impression it was exactly what she felt. But today he didn’t feel like pushing for answers. If he pushed that meant going down a path he didn’t plan to pursue.

      “I can’t stay here for a few weeks.”

      She dumped the eggs in a frying pan and glanced back over her shoulder. “I understand.”

      “But I do want Andy to have a dog. I’ll figure this out. If you don’t mind watching the kids, I’m heading out to join Isaac. I need to show him that I can still ride a horse.”

      “I’ll watch the kids. You try not to break your leg.” She grabbed a granola bar out of a basket. “You have to eat something.”

      “Have a little faith in me.” He caught the granola bar Kylie tossed his way.

      “I do have faith.” She let the statement speak for itself.

      He lifted his foot.

      “Will Jack’s boots fit me?”

      “I think so. Or you can try the clothes closet. Every now and then a guy moves on and they’ll leave stuff behind. We have clothes, boots, hats, just about everything.” She opened the door at the side of the kitchen. “Laundry room and clothing. Help yourself.”

      She’d been right about finding what he needed. Boots, a hat, gloves. He walked back out a few minutes later and she gave him the once-over.

      “Even if you can’t ride a horse anymore, you look like you can.”

      “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” He paused at the stove. “When Andy wakes up, don’t be offended if he won’t eat. He has sensory issues.”

      “I’ll handle it.”

      “He might be upset when he wakes up.” Carson thought it best she know everything. In response she put a hand around his arm and walked with him to the back door.

      “Carson, I handle adults with PTSD. I think


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