she didn’t. What did she tell you?”
“She mentioned she was pregnant, but she said everything was fine.”
“And just what else was she supposed to say with you in another country and her here?”
“She could have told me the truth.”
“In Kylie’s mind, she probably was fine,” Dix admitted, blowing out a huge breath. “She has plans to turn this place around after the baby’s born.”
“What kind of plans?”
“Teaching more classes. Boarding more horses. Training more two-year-olds.”
“She’s dreaming.”
“Yes, she is. About her baby’s future. She didn’t tell you what was going on because she didn’t want you to know, is my guess. You proved you didn’t care about Saddle Ridge by staying away. I wouldn’t have called you, except the doc says she’s supposed to take it easy for the next couple of weeks. I knew I couldn’t handle this myself. I hate admitting it, but it’s true.” Dix’s red beard was laced with some gray now. The lines on his weathered face were deep and counted every one of his sixty-two years.
“No hands at all? Not even part-time?”
“We couldn’t afford them! I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this. Kylie should. But she’s still shaken up and I don’t want her worrying so much. It’s not good for her or the baby.”
Brock had been back home in Texas when Dix had called him yesterday to tell him about Kylie’s accident. He didn’t know what to make of any of this.
After his dad had divorced his mom, she’d gone back to live with her family on a reservation in Arizona. He’d been four years old, and he could still remember the tears in her eyes when she’d claimed Saddle Ridge was where his future lay. As he’d grown older, he’d understood what she’d meant. If he stayed at the ranch, he could eventually go to college and become anything he wanted to be. If he went to Arizona and lived on the reservation with her, he wouldn’t be happy. He wouldn’t get the same kind of education. He wouldn’t grow up to be everything a man could be.
He’d visited his mother, mostly in the summers, but his life had been empty without her. Jack Warner had never been warm to Brock. He’d hired a housekeeper, and Brock had had all his needs met. But after Jack remarried and Alex was born, with his blond hair and his blue eyes just like his mom and dad, Brock often thought about leaving and going to live with his mother in Arizona. Yet as each year passed and his mother encouraged him to stay, he’d bonded with his half brother, found satisfaction in school work and tending to the horses, and he’d always felt a kinship with the land.
“With the holidays comin’,” Dix continued, “Kylie’s driving herself harder. She’s on a committee for the First Night celebration in town. She has presents to make, as well as things to ready for the baby.”
“The last thing she needs to be worried about is Christmas presents, decorations and a New Year’s Eve party.”
“Don’t go tellin’ her that, or you’ll get your head handed to you on a platter. You might anyway,” he muttered. “She likes to do everything on her own.”
“Didn’t you call me so I’d get back here and talk some sense into her?”
“Not exactly. I called you because she needs help. I need help. You’ve got a vested interest in this place—”
“The terms of the will apply to Kylie the same as they did to Alex. I’ve only got a vested interest if she sells it.” Brock zipped up his windbreaker. He’d have to get warmer clothes if he was going to stay here through the winter.
Through the winter. When had he made that decision?
“You are going to help, aren’t you?” Dix asked now, looking worried, maybe wondering if the boy he’d known had become a man who was different from that boy.
“Yes, I’ll help. I have paperwork to finish on a project and a few loose ends to tie up, but nothing else is pending right now.”
“It won’t be a hardship to take some time off?”
Brock knew Dix meant financially. He made more money than he knew what to do with. Maybe because he worked all the time, more often than not in locations where most men wouldn’t go. Maybe because saving had always been more important than immediate gratification. He’d also invested in a few wells over the years that had hit big. A few months on Saddle Ridge wouldn’t be a problem. A few months until Kylie’s baby was born…until Alex’s baby was born.
“No hardship.”
“Kylie’s had a lot on her shoulders, son. Remember that,” Dix warned him.
He’d remember that. Unfortunately, staying at Saddle Ridge he’d remember a lot more. He’d have to face the fact those memories still might have power over him.
While he was here this time, he’d shake loose of their power for good.
An hour later Brock stepped over the threshold once more into the two-story ranch house. Immediately he spotted Kylie on the sofa, stretched out, asleep. She looked like a pregnant princess. But he knew she’d never been coddled like a princess. He knew she’d always been a hard worker, intent on living each day to its fullest.
Now what? His brother’s wife was smack-dab in the middle of a ranch that needed manpower, capital and something much more intangible to invigorate it. Why hadn’t Alex done something about the condition of the place? Why hadn’t he asked for help if he’d needed it? Because of pride? Whether he and Alex had wanted to admit it or not, Jack Warner had fostered competition between them. There was nothing to compete over. As a child, Brock had known he’d never have his father’s affection.
This place brought back memories Brock didn’t want to revisit, and he focused on the physical surroundings. Some of the furniture was newer than the rest. Dix had informed him that new furniture had been Alex’s wedding present to Kylie.
Some wedding present, Brock thought. It was striped teal-and-wine with huge, rolled arms and Brock suspected Kylie had chosen it rather than Alex having picked it out as a surprise. Automatically, Brock thought about the strand of Tahitian pearls he’d given Marta before their wedding. She’d loved them. She’d said she loved him. But she couldn’t have walked away so easily if she had. He couldn’t have gotten over her so quickly if he had loved her the way a husband should love a wife.
Love. Lust. Convenience. Need. Physical satisfaction. Who knew how much any of that played into a relationship? Who really knew how to figure out what was love and what was something else?
Watching Kylie like this, he was transported back to a night in the barn when she’d been seventeen and he’d been twenty-two, home for her graduation…and Alex’s. Proud of her, he’d given her a present. She’d kissed him. For a few moments he’d forgotten she was underage and he was a hell of a lot more experienced. But after those few moments, he’d ended it, backed away and done what was best for both of them. Later that weekend, Alex had informed him he was going to marry Kylie someday.
Brock had returned to his Ph.D. work, focused on life away from Saddle Ridge and married Marta shortly after he’d met her. Too soon, too fast, too different.
