A Rancher's Pride

chapter Four


TEMPORARY JOINT CUSTODY!

Incensed, Kayla keyed the words in all capital letters on her phone. She knew her sister, Lianne, at the other end of the wireless connection, would understand Kayla’s emotion.

Lianne knew how close Kayla was to Becky. How much Kayla loved their niece. Lianne loved her, too, though she hadn’t spent as much time with her. She didn’t feel responsible for Becky.

She didn’t feel, as Kayla did, as if she were Becky’s second mother.

TEMPORARY JOINT CUSTODY! She read the message again, then continued, This is crazy.

Not crazy, the answer came back. Good for you. You can see her every day.



In Sam Robertson’s company.



Compromise. That’s life.



Kayla bit back a laugh. My life, maybe. What about his? A pointless question. I never expected him to argue with me over Becky. I planned to just pack up her belongings and come home. Well, if I have to keep fighting, I will.



But she couldn’t dispute the judge’s order.

And what about Sam’s obvious suspicion that she would run off with her niece? He’ll never give me time alone with Becky.

Except…

Thumbs over the keypad, she froze. Could what she’d just realized really be true? She thought hard, nodded once and continued keying furiously.



I need to convince Sam to let me live at the ranch.



His mom’s laid up, isn’t she? Lianne shot back.



Kayla almost laughed aloud. You’re one step ahead of me! An excuse to stick close to Becky AND Sam. A chance to find something to sway the judge in my favor.

Again, Lianne caught on. Dig up some dirt on Sam. So the judge will give you Becky.



Yes!



Devious, Lianne responded. I like it.



Me, too.



Staying close to Sam would buy her time, and with luck she’d find evidence to use against him. Her conscience twinged, but she firmly pushed the feeling away. This was for Becky’s sake. She couldn’t leave her niece with a man Ronnie said wasn’t a fit father.

She didn’t know how the child’s own mother could have done that, either.

Shaking her head, she texted, Any word from Ronnie?



Not yet.



Maybe Matt had found her already.

But Kayla knew, no matter what she learned from Ronnie, she would have to win this battle on her own.

One after another, ideas clicked into place. She could fight for her niece by working her way into Sam’s life. By finding out what she could about him from his mother and the men who worked on his ranch. From his neighbors and friends in town. From the man himself.

She could investigate Sam on a local level. And maybe find out enough to avoid bringing everything about Ronnie’s life with him into the open.

She thumbed the keypad again swiftly. Already talked to Matt Lawrence. He’s trying to locate Ronnie.



Good. Now—what to tell Mom and Dad?



Kayla pressed her lips together and hit the keypad without hesitation. Will be back soon—with Becky.



Sounds great. Need me? Lianne asked.



Always. Just texting the word brought a lump to Kayla’s throat.

They had spent so many of their childhood years apart when their parents sent Lianne to a school for deaf children. Kayla had been heartbroken by the separation and feared she and Lianne would never have an “always” together. When Lianne had returned home for her high school years, Kayla had been elated—and proud to introduce all her friends to the sister she looked up to.

Kayla shook off the memories.

I can handle it here, she continued. I could use some clothes, etc., though. Will email you a list. Can you overnight a box to me?



Sure. On standby. Good luck.



Sam exited the courtroom and stopped in front of her. A scowl darkened his features, and he gave an impatient look toward the outside door.

Kayla knew she would need all the luck she could get, starting now.

She texted a quick goodbye and stowed the phone in her bag. Then, hastily, she rose to face Sam, hoping at least to put them in equal power positions.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t measure up. He stood a head taller and his shoulders seemed a mile wider.

Before either one of them could speak, another man walked down the hall. As he moved to pass them, Sam stepped forward to give him more room. The man continued on his way.

Sam stayed where he was in front of Kayla. Much too close in the narrow hallway. Much too disturbing to her peace of mind.

Funny. She’d never suffered from claustrophobia before, but all of a sudden she found herself almost choking from a lack of air.

She gripped the strap of her shoulder bag and sucked in a steadying breath. “We need to talk. But there are too many people around here. Can’t we find somewhere more private?”

Sam hooted a laugh, throwing his head back and gesturing widely with his arms.

Becky looked up at him.

“Private?” he repeated. “Honey, it’s obvious you’re a stranger to Flagman’s Folly. There’s not a place in town where people don’t hang around with their ears flapping, trying to catch everything that’s going on.” He leaned even closer, and the scent of mint-flavored toothpaste reached her.

She shuffled back a step. The window seat caught her behind the knees. She had nowhere else to go. And not a sensible word of reply in her brain. She blurted the only thing she could think of to say. “Don’t call me ‘honey.’”

“Fine. But I’ll call your bluff on that request for a talk.” Spiky dark brows, a match to his midnight-black hair, nearly met above his eyes as he glared down at her. “I’ve got plenty of things to say to you, too. And I guarantee you’re not going to like any of them.”



KAYLA FUMED SILENTLY in the passenger seat as Sam maneuvered his dust-covered pickup truck away from their parking spot in front of Town Hall.

“I might as well start introducing Becky around town,” Sam said, sounding both irritated and determined.

She glanced back at her niece and got a stranglehold on her door handle. If only it were a lever for an ejector seat that could catapult them both to Chicago in the blink of an eye.

She had thought—hoped—that Sam would refuse to follow orders and that she could set the good example and win points with the judge.

“It ought to be fairly quiet at the Double S,” he continued. “And it’s right down the street. We can talk there and have a drink while we’re at it.”

“A drink?” Her jaw dropped.

He looked at her fleetingly, then back to the road in front of him. His mouth curled in a sarcastic smile.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, unable to hold back her outrage. “You can’t take a child into a bar. They must have laws against that, even out here in the wild, wild West. Just as they have laws for child seats in moving vehicles.”

Fortunately, Kayla had come prepared—for what she had thought would be her quick return to Chicago. Now she looked pointedly over her shoulder at the booster chair she had strapped into the backseat. Becky held her doll close to the half window, allowing her to see the sights, too.

Not that there were a lot to be found on this tiny stretch of so-called civilization in the middle of nowhere. And, other than the grass around Town Hall and the cactus plants in the water troughs, she hadn’t seen much of anything green. Of course, in all honesty, there wasn’t much vegetation in her urban neighborhood back home, either.

Still wearing that mocking smile, Sam looked over at her again. “You must not get out much, if you think this is the wild West. Anyhow, the Double S isn’t a bar. It’s a café. With great coffee.”

“Oh.” Well, she’d already made her point over the safety seat. “I don’t drink coffee.”

“It figures.”

Less than the length of a city block away from Town Hall, he parked the truck in front of a squat, stuccoed building. Kayla rushed to unbuckle her seat belt, then to free Becky from hers.

After helping her niece jump from the truck’s high cab, Kayla glanced at the café.

A clever hand-painted sign above the front door showed one S swinging playfully from a second one. A trellised archway of amazingly lifelike flowers and curling vines, also hand-painted, wound around the entry. Terra-cotta pots filled with flowering cacti lined the walls on either side of the door. A pair of wooden shutters framed each window. The restaurant’s outward appearance was clean, quaint and well cared for.

She was curious to see if that impression held inside the café.

Becky looked from the building to Sam and Kayla, then brushed her open hand in the air in front of her face and pulled her fingertips together.

“Pretty,” Kayla voiced for Sam’s benefit. She bobbed her fist in the air and repeated the sign. “Yes, it’s pretty.”

Inside, the Southwestern theme continued with unvarnished wooden tables and chairs and rough woven place mats. The only jarring note came from a thoroughly modern glass display case at one end of the counter in the rear of the café, its shelves filled with cakes and cookies and pastries. Becky noticed the goodies, too, and headed right toward them. Kayla smiled.

After a glance at Sam, she stopped smiling.

Early that morning, he had said his mother planned to spend the day in her room. Kayla prepared a meal for him to carry upstairs. Before leaving the kitchen, he abruptly announced he’d already eaten breakfast. Then he walked out, returning only in time to leave for town.

Kayla had shrugged. To tell the truth, she’d been dreading the first meal with all of them together. Still, she couldn’t help a feeling of irritation on Becky’s behalf. Just when did Sam Robertson intend to begin getting acquainted with his own daughter?

Now Kayla shrugged again, no longer bothered by his actions. It would be much better for her plans if Sam didn’t get close to Becky at all. If only he hadn’t come up with the idea to stop by this café, either.

She turned to look at her niece, who stood staring into the dessert case. She had eaten a good-size serving of eggs and toast that morning, but she had a sweet tooth to rival Kayla’s own.

Kayla felt tempted to head toward the dessert case, too.

Instead, she followed Sam to the counter.

As they approached, a petite raven-haired woman in a bright orange waitress’s uniform shifted her gaze from Becky to them. She looked about Kayla’s mother’s age, but the broad smile that lit her face erased years from it.

“Sam, my friend!” she called. She chuckled and indicated the little girl with her hands and nose pressed against the display case. “And this I think must be Becky.”

Kayla blinked. Sam hadn’t been kidding about people keeping their ears open in this town.

“Yep.” He slid onto a stool. When the other woman looked curiously over his shoulder at Kayla, he made brief introductions. “This is Dorinda Martinez. Kayla Ward.”

“Nice to meet you, Dorinda.”

“The same for me. Call me Dori, please.”

“Dori,” she agreed, smiling as she took the seat beside Sam.

Did he plan to have their talk in front of this nice but clearly observant woman? Kayla wondered about the “plenty of things” he had to say. Well, she’d just have to take her turn in the conversation first.

“So you’ve heard about Becky already?” he asked Dori.

“Of course. How was your meeting with the judge this morning?”

At her question, even he did a double take. “How the heck did you find out about that?”

She grinned. “Every day, Ellamae has an order to go on her way to Town Hall.”

“Huh. I should’ve known.”

“Two nurses from the hospital came in for coffee and told me about your poor mama, too.”

“Hmm. Well, the judge was about what you’d expect,” Sam muttered. “Crotchety. Mom’s doing fine this morning. Still in some pain. They say a bad sprain’s worse than a fracture. But mostly she’s just uncomfortable. And—” he gave a low chuckle “—she’s no end ticked off that the doc’s forcing her to bed rest.”

“Sharleen is not one to sit still, is she?”

Kayla fought to keep from frowning. On the way to town, when she had asked Sam about his mother, he’d said merely, “She’s okay.” He certainly seemed willing enough to talk now.

Dori took a step into the café’s kitchen area behind her. “Manny, come see who’s here.”

A moment later, a dark-haired man appeared, his round face splitting into a grin when he saw Sam. “Hey, my friend. It’s been a while.”

Now, that didn’t surprise Kayla at all. Ronnie had told them how little Sam left the ranch.

“About time you decided to visit,” the other man continued. “And good timing. I have a pot of five-alarm chili on the back burner, waiting just for you.”

Sam shook his head. “A little early for me, thanks, Manny. But the ladies here might want some of Dori’s desserts.”

“Of course!” Dori said, winking at Kayla. “If not for my sweets, no one would even stop by the café.”

“Ha.” Manny tilted his head toward Sam. “Coffee?”

He nodded.

“It’s true,” Dori told Kayla as she moved over to the display case. “People from all over the county come here—”

“For my chili,” Manny broke in.

“Ahh, my poor mixed-up husband, we’ll let Kayla be the judge of what’s good. And Becky.” She knelt down beside the little girl and pointed at the display case.

Becky nodded eagerly and put her hand on the glass near a doughnut decorated with chocolate sprinkles.

“One doughnut, coming up,” Dori said.

Her throat tight, Kayla nearly croaked out her order to Manny for tea and an apple tart.

It was so easy to communicate with a four-year-old. Yet, all morning, Sam hadn’t said a word or even made a gesture toward the child.

How could the judge possibly think about leaving Becky in the care of a man as unfeeling as this? Why didn’t Sam try to talk with his own daughter? Even more puzzling, why was he fighting for custody when he obviously didn’t want anything to do with Becky?

Desperately needing a distraction from these thoughts, Kayla said, “Dori and Manny. So, where does the name Double S come in?”

Manny pretended to shudder. “My Dori wanted to call the place Spicy and Sweet. Can you believe?”

“Sweet ’n’ Spicy,” Dori corrected.

He rolled his eyes. “So now it’s the Double S.”

“Sure. Thanks to my friend here.”

“Wait a minute,” Sam protested. “It wasn’t my idea.”

“Oh? Do you think I’ll fall for that?” Dori’s voice sounded stern, but as she turned toward Kayla, the twinkle in her eyes gave her away. “A cowboy gives my café a cowboy name. And a cowboy makes the sign outside. That’s proof, isn’t it?”

“Sounds like it to me,” Kayla agreed, struggling to hide her shock. Sam had made that beautiful, creative sign she had seen at the front of the café? The idea astounded her. When she glanced sideways at him, he looked away.

She thought of the intricately carved headboard on Becky’s bed. Had Sam made that, too? The idea made her distinctly uneasy. Had he taken the time, gone to the effort in the hope his daughter might sleep in that bed someday?

How wonderful if Becky’s father had thought so much of her.

And how awful for Kayla if the judge found out. That is, if her thoughts were even true. Sam certainly hadn’t done anything to support them so far.

She forced her attention back to the conversation.

“Now we are the Double S,” Manny was saying. “Short and to the point.”

Dori spread her hands wide and shrugged. “It’s not polite to refuse a gift. And so I am defeated.”

“Keeping our guests from their refreshments isn’t polite, either.” Manny turned back to them, a brimming teacup in one hand.

“We’ll take our stuff over to a table,” Sam told him.

“Good enough.”

Sam now stood beside his counter stool, waiting.

Kayla slid from her seat.

The time had come for the talk she had requested. If Sam didn’t mind having that conversation with his friends in hearing range, she wouldn’t let it bother her, either.

She gripped the strap of her shoulder bag and sailed past him.