The Rancher's Rescue. Cari Lynn Webb
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“I’m here now and happy to work.”
Their mother searched the store as if seeking an intervention from the mannequins. The resident store cat, Whiskers, meowed and rubbed on the edge of the counter. Their mother grabbed the large gray cat like he was the answer to her lifelong quest. “Your sister already inventoried the pet supplies and women’s attire. We’ll tackle the staff schedule and payroll next, after we place several reorders.”
Sarah Ashley smiled and nodded. “I can help with that.”
“Grace has always taken care of that with me.” Their mom handed Whiskers to Sarah Ashley. “Why don’t you check on your grandfather and his friends? Make sure they have enough sweet tea and water. Then you can wash off the stools on the porch.”
Sarah Ashley eyed her mother and frowned as if she’d been asked to sit at the kids’ table for Christmas dinner and sip sparkling cider. “You want me to wash the milk cans? No one ever does that, and shouldn’t Pops and his friends get their own drinks? You’re always saying that it isn’t good for them to sit all day.”
Their mother looked chagrined. “Well, uh...”
Grace was surprised their mother could suggest cleaning the milk can stools with a straight face. Sarah Ashley was right. That hadn’t ever been done since Grace started working in the store as a teenager. It was also true that their mother reminded Pops daily that she wasn’t running a restaurant. And if he or his friends wanted drinks or food, they needed to walk into the breakroom and get it like everyone else. It was their mother’s way of ensuring her father exercised his hips, having had both replaced over the last five years.
Her mother touched Sarah Ashley’s cheek. “You don’t want to do anything that might make you dizzy or light-headed. You wouldn’t want to fall again.”
Grace bit down on the inside of her cheek. Sarah Ashley had fallen off a ladder in the warehouse as a child and hit her head. Their father had then forbidden the girls to climb on the ladders or shelves after that. Sarah Ashley had claimed she’d been trying to organize some stock, got dizzy and fell. Their parents had given Sarah Ashley a reprieve from all her chores and household duties. Grace had been more than happy to step in for her injured sister. She just hadn’t expected to continue stepping in for her sister for the rest of their lives. Sarah Ashley had been hurt in the fall more than a decade earlier and hadn’t suffered any similar incident since.
“I’ll take care of it.” Sarah Ashley hugged the cat, her voice low and quiet.
Resentment laced both her sister’s tone and face. But that couldn’t be right. Sarah Ashley had never been inclined to get involved with the store. What was Sarah Ashley’s angle? After the warehouse incident, her sister had been more than willing to embrace her newly acquired princess status and she’d never relinquished it. Was her sister trying to impress Ethan? Grace doubted that, given her sister didn’t seem interested in his visit earlier.
Their dad peered around the swinging door and called for Grace. She’d never been banned from the warehouse. Not once. Nausea washed over her, slowing her steps. She’d never resented her sister’s princess status, but right now, she wanted to know how to get treated like that herself. Even if only for five minutes.
* * *
SARAH ASHLEY CUDDLED WHISKERS, his welcome purr vibrated against her neck as she whispered, “Once you settle onto the pedestal, Whiskers, it’s impossible to get off.” Sure she’d been satisfied, more than content with her favored position among family and friends. But then she’d married.
The first month of being Mrs. Alec Landry had been as ideal as she’d expected. Her husband followed that by declaring his expectations for their marriage. For her specifically. Specifically, Alec had wanted to start their family now and expected Sarah Ashley to stay home to raise their children. But Sarah Ashley’s pedestal had room enough for only one, or so she’d told Alec. She’d also added that she expected nannies and housekeepers to assist her. Alec’s laughter and accusations that she couldn’t do anything on her own still ricocheted through her.
She’d packed her bags and left their apartment to move back home all on her own that same night. But she’d been in Falcon Creek for three weeks and had yet to do anything else to prove herself.
Unlike Grace, her younger sister. Everyone trusted Grace. Never questioned Grace’s abilities. Never put Grace on a pedestal. The answer was simple: Sarah Ashley needed to get off her pedestal and soon.
She watched Grace shove another mint in her mouth as if she’d binged on garlic sausage at the Clearwater Café for breakfast and was waging war against bad breath. Sarah Ashley thought it odd that she hadn’t seen her little sister eat much more than crackers and mints in the last few weeks. Yet the caretaker role had always fit Sarah Ashley like last season’s wool sweater shrunk in the dryer, itchy and too tight. Although she’d always welcomed concern and pampering for herself, even she recognized that wouldn’t make her a good mother or a better person. Was it possible she lacked the skills to be a capable mother?
Stepping onto the wide front porch, she set Whiskers in Pops’s lap and left her own doubts on her pedestal. “Who needs a refill?”
“Hello, Sarah-Snowberry-Ashley.” Pops grinned, his usual lopsided quirk of his lips that had been there since she’d learned to climb into his lap as a toddler. He patted the milk stool beside him. “Come and sit with us for a spell.”
Sarah Ashley sat because she loved her grandfather and had been raised not to question her elders. But she was tired of sitting and looking pretty, like the field of wild snowberry flowers her grandfather had always compared her to. Yet sitting around wouldn’t prove Alec wrong.
“When’s that successful husband of yours coming to visit?” Pops asked.
“Work has him traveling,” Sarah Ashley hedged. “I’m sure he’ll stop in when he’s back in Billings for more than a day.” Or when she agreed to do more than talk to Alec on the phone. Her husband wanted his princess home. But Sarah Ashley wasn’t returning to him until she’d proven she was a queen, capable of much more than looking pretty on her throne.
To do that she needed to change how everyone viewed her. She rose and kissed Pops’s cheek. “Time for me to get back to work.”
“GOOD MORNING, GRACE.”
Grace gaped and slowed on the porch steps of Brewster’s. The other half of her child’s DNA sat across from Pops. Ethan in his worn boots, faded flannel shirt and baseball cap smiled at her, stirring warmth through her. He returned his attention to the chessboard as if he’d been playing with her grandfather for years. As if this was their morning routine. As if he belonged here on this porch, waiting for her.
Waiting for her to confess.
Grace’s hand drifted to her stomach, her slight bump concealed beneath her jacket. Why did the truth have to be so complicated?
Still she couldn’t quite stall that swirl of warmth inside her from seeing Ethan.
She should be hot from irritation. She should be annoyed with Ethan for intruding on her usual morning routine. She always shared coffee and stories with her grandfather before the store opened. Before the other employees arrived. Before the customers took over the day.
Except this morning, they were a trio, rather than a duo. What was it with people inserting themselves where they didn’t belong? First, there was Sarah Ashley trying to step into the family business for the first time ever, and now, Ethan.
Was it so wrong that Grace wanted one thing to remain the same? To remain normal? In six months, nothing about her life would be either. But she could at least have her usual mornings with Pops, couldn’t she? Surely that wasn’t too much to ask.
“Sit down, Gracie.” Pops pointed at the empty rocking chair beside Ethan. The same one she sat in