The Rancher's Rescue. Cari Lynn Webb

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СКАЧАТЬ 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.”

       CHAPTER THREE

      “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 every morning while she listened to Pops reminisce about her grandmother or his childhood. “Your Ethan here, he already took care of your morning chores for you.” He eyed Ethan over the rims of his glasses and grinned. “Can’t ever get this girl to sit. But I got her good this morning, thanks to you.”

      “I can make more coffee.” Ethan’s hand was on a stack of file folders. He glanced at her, and his guarded tone suggested he thought she needed several cups to tackle the Blackwell books.

      “I’ve been making the effort to switch to tea.” Grace reached inside her purse for her special ginger tea. She was going to need to steep more than one bag this morning. Sitting next to Ethan was unsettling. She cleared her throat to smooth the accusation out of her voice and looked at him. “You’re up early.”

      “Trying to get some errands done before Katie notices I’ve left.” Ethan placed a hand on his white knight and started to move the piece, but then paused to consider the chessboard as if everything hinged on this one particular move.

      Whereas for Grace, everything hinged on her baby and keeping her stomach from objecting to the morning’s excitement. Would Ethan expect her to say checkmate when she told him about the baby? As if she’d neatly trapped him into being a dad. And what about marriage? She didn’t want Ethan to offer to marry her because she was carrying his child. But would he believe her?

      “Keeping ahead of Katie Montgomery is almost as impossible as staying a step ahead of our Gracie.” Pops stuck his elbows out and leaned on his knees, as if anticipating Ethan’s move. As if Ethan proved a challenge to her grandfather. Ethan shifted his knight, taking Pops’s bishop. Pops rubbed his chin. “Sometimes you get lucky.”

      Maybe Grace would get lucky and Ethan would confess he’d always wanted to be a father and couldn’t think of another person СКАЧАТЬ