The Rancher's Legacy (Red Dog Ranch Book 1) Read online

  It had been a while since Rhett had cracked the book. “I know the Bible, Uncle Travis.”

  He paused as he opened the door. “Ah, but do you know the heart of God in this matter? Have you sought that out, son? Because that’s more valuable than a hundred memorized Bible verses.” Uncle Travis shrugged. “Just a thought.”

  After his uncle left, Rhett fought the urge to sit back down and drop his head into his hands. Fought the desire to finally lose it over his dad’s death. Fall apart once and for all. But he couldn’t do that, not now. Maybe not ever.

  Way too many people were counting on him to be strong.

  Rhett mentally packed up every messy emotion in his heart and shoved them into a lockbox. He pretended he was jamming them down, squishing them until they were so small and insignificant they weren’t worth thinking about. Or talking about or sharing with anyone.

  No one would care about them anyway.

  Then he clicked the lockbox shut and tucked it into the darkest corner of his mind to be forgotten.

  * * *

  Macy was going to pace a hole in the floorboards at the front of the ranch’s office. Travis Jarrett had left half an hour ago, but Rhett still hadn’t vacated his father’s office. What was taking so long?

  She jerked her hair up into a ponytail.

  The second—the very second—he left that office he’d have to listen to her, hear her out.

  She’d make him.

  Macy paused near her desk and picked up a framed photo of her and Brock Jarrett. It had been taken at last year’s spring kickoff event for Camp Firefly—the free summer camp Brock ran at Red Dog Ranch for foster kids. She traced a finger over the photo—Brock’s smile.

  Macy blinked away tears.

  After her father walked out of her life when she was ten years old, Brock had stepped in and filled that void. And when her mom died eight years later the Jarretts had moved her onto their property. Rhett’s dad had been family to her—Rhett had been like family to her too. Now they hardly acknowledged each other, and with Rhett’s mom fading fast, Macy couldn’t help but feel like she was losing everyone she cared about all over again.

  “I’ll keep your secret,” she whispered to the image. “I promise.”

  She set the picture down and absently rubbed her thumb back and forth across the raised scar on her pointer finger. A nervous habit she’d tried, unsuccessfully, to break more than once. The scar was Rhett’s fault. Six years ago, he had dropped his cell phone when they were out hiking and she’d crawled back over the large rocks on the trail to get it, disturbing a copperhead in her zest. Of course, Rhett had carried her to safety, rushed her to the hospital as her skin swelled and blistered and the pain intensified, and stayed by her side while she healed. The memory caused a rueful smile to tug at her lips. He had lost his cell phone after everything anyway.

  She forced her thumb to stop moving.

  The scar on her finger wasn’t the only one she blamed him for. The Do Not Cross tape coiled around her heart was all his doing too.

  Macy whirled toward the door to Brock’s—no, Rhett’s—office.

  Enough.

  She marched toward the door and didn’t bother knocking before opening it. “We need to—” The words died on her lips. Rhett wasn’t there.

  The man must have slunk out the never-used back door like the guilty dog he was.

  Macy balled her fists.

  They would have to face each other—have to talk at some point—and today was as good a day as any. She hadn’t been able to get a good read on Rhett with Travis there so she had held her tongue.

  I’m looking into cancelling programs.

  Not if Macy had anything to do with it.

  She grabbed her keys, locked up the office and hoofed it out into the yard. Orange mingled with pink and gold in the sky. A slight breeze carried the chill whisper of the approaching night. The sun had dipped close to the horizon, not quite sunset yet but soon enough.

  Various structures peppered the Jarrett property. The office and main buildings serving the summer camp wrapped through the front of their land, including ten camper cabins and a mess hall that was built into the side of the largest hill they owned. The barns and cattle fields took up the opposite end of their holding, and the family home rested like a gorgeous crown jewel at the end of the long driveway. Macy lived in one of the small bungalows tucked just west of the family ranch house. A handful of staff members lived on the property.

  Macy passed the small corral that housed Romeo, the ranch’s attention-needy miniature donkey, and Sheep, an all-white miniature horse that belonged to Rhett’s niece, Piper. Romeo trotted beside the fence line as she walked, trying to coax an ear scratch out of her.

  “Not now, buddy.” Macy didn’t break her stride. Still, his pathetic bray made her heart twist. She loved the little donkey and all of his quirks—maybe for his quirks. “I’ll bring you apples later, deal?”

  Beyond their enclosure, she spotted a horse and rider picking their way through the bluebonnets blanketing the nearby field. She squinted, trying to focus on the rider. Shannon Jarrett, Rhett’s sister. Despite the fact that none of the women were related, Shannon, Cassidy and Macy had formed a tight-knit sisterhood. Especially during the last five years.

  Macy climbed onto the fence and waved at her friend.

  Shannon nudged her horse into a trot so she was within yelling distance in seconds.

  “Did you see where your rat of a brother went off to?” Macy called.

  Shannon tossed back her head and laughed. “Well, I know you aren’t talking about Boone.” And neither mentioned the other Jarrett brother, Wade. His death five years ago had been the catalyst that set the Jarretts drifting apart. Being Wade’s twin, Shannon had been deeply affected by the sudden loss of him. She hadn’t quite regained the wide, carefree grin she’d been known for as a child. Probably never would.

  “I could hardly call a man training to be a pastor a rat.” Macy joined in the laughter.

  Shannon nodded, her short blond waves bobbing. “Rhett walks Kodiak to the lake every morning and every evening. I don’t think she can last a day without swimming. Rhett says it’s in her breed’s blood.”

  Macy tipped her head in a silent thank-you and made for the lake.

  Red Dog Ranch sat on over three thousand acres of gorgeous Texas Hill Country land and had multiple lakes and ponds. Some of them Macy would need a horse or one of the trucks to reach, but she guessed Rhett had stuck to the one closest to the house. Long ago, she and Rhett had dubbed the body of water Canoe Landing. It was where he’d fished with his dad and where he and his siblings had learned to swim. Macy too.

  Embers of memories burned in the back of her mind. She snuffed them out. A million yesterdays couldn’t help her solve the problems she faced today.

  When Macy hiked over the hill that led to Canoe Landing, she paused. Rhett had his back to her. His shoulders made an impressive cut against the approaching sunset. Rhett had always been taller and broader than his brothers. The Wranglers and starched button-down he wore fit so well, they might as well be illegal. Under his cowboy hat she knew his hair would be naturally blond-tipped and tousled.

  He was the kind of handsome that female country-western singers wrote ballads about, but it was clear he had never caught on to how attractive he was or how many hearts he could have broken if he’d wanted to. Rhett wasn’t like that.

  She fiddled with the end of her flannel.

  Kodiak bounded out of the water, dropped a soggy ball at Rhett’s feet and then leaned around his leg and let out a low growl. Her yellowish eyes pinned on Macy.

  Rhett pivoted to see what had captured his dog’s attention. His eyebrows rose when he spotted Macy. His eyes were such a shocking shade of blue and his tanned skin only made them stand out more.

  I’m sorry I kissed you and ran o
ff.

  I’m sorry I never returned your calls. I was confused. I let too much time pass.

  I ruined everything.

  She swallowed the words rushing through her mind.

  Macy tucked her thumb over her scarred finger. “You snuck out the back?”

  Rhett patted Kodiak’s head before he lobbed the ball in a wide arc. It splashed down in the middle of the lake. The dog became a blur of brown along the shoreline. She dove into the water, going under before paddling wildly.

  Rhett crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn’t know I was supposed to check in with the assistant before leaving.”

  “Listen.” Macy squared her shoulders and lifted her chin a notch higher to hold his gaze. “We need to come to some sort of a truce here or else work is going to become very miserable, very fast.”

  Unless he fired her, of course. Rhett had the power and ability to do it, so while she wanted to push him and fight with him over the foster-related events at the ranch, she needed to tread the subject carefully.

  Good thing Macy had cooled down considerably since she’d locked up at the office.

  Rhett shifted his line of vision to watch Kodiak swimming in circles. “I suppose you’re right.” He glanced back at her. “We can’t keep acting like the walls of Jericho to each other if we’re going to be sharing office space.”

  “You’re...you’re going to let me stay then?”

  The notch in Rhett’s throat bobbed. His gaze traced her face. “This is your home, Mace. You love your job.” He looked away. “I don’t plan on taking that from you.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. She tentatively touched his arm. “Rhett, I’m so sorry about your dad. He loved you a lot.”

  His bicep tensed under her touch. “ I thought we had plenty of years left. I never thought—” A harsh exhale of breath escaped his lips. “What a stupid thing to say. No one expects these sorts of things.”

  “I’m here.” She squeezed his arm lightly, then let go. “If you need someone.”

  His brow bunched as his eyes cut back to her. “We haven’t spoken in three years.”

  “The walls of Jericho fell down.” Macy slipped her hands into her pockets. “You know that, right?”

  A muscle in Rhett’s jaw popped, once, twice. “I’m a... I’m not looking for friendship again, Mace. Not with you. I think it’s important to put that out on the table.”

  She knew Rhett hadn’t meant the words maliciously; he was just stating reality. Rhett was a man who dealt in facts. It was his attempt at being forthright. Chivalrous even, making certain no one would get the wrong idea from the get-go.

  But, wow, what he said smarted.

  Not with you.

  Those three words stung her worse than any pit viper ever could.

  After Brock’s funeral she’d foolishly hoped she and Rhett might have been able to let bygones be bygones and fall back into the easy, lifelong friendship they had once shared. A part of her had even wondered if God was drawing them close for another chance at being together in the way Macy had always wanted.

  Well, consider that balloon popped and tossed in the garbage.

  “Understood.” She kept her voice even. If they weren’t going to deal in niceties she might as well get down to business. “We need to talk about the foster programs.”

  Rhett let out one sharp laugh that held no hint of humor. “Which one?”

  “Let’s start with Camp Firefly.” As if summoned by her mention, a pack of fireflies began to flit over the lake. Kodiak had noticed them too and began snapping her giant muzzle in their direction. The little bugs looped and pitched in oblong circles around each other. Encouraged by their presence Macy said, “You can’t cut it.”

  Rhett cocked his head. “Who said I was?”

  “You did.” She jabbed a finger in his direction. “Mr. I’m-Looking-into-Cancelling-Things.”

  Rhett rubbed his finger across his lips. Was he hiding a smile? Was this a joke to him?

  Kodiak slogged out of the water. She gave a shake, sending droplets flying, and then walked toward her master, her tail wagging the whole way.

  “I can’t make any promises about next summer, but with only three months left until camp it would be hard to cut it.” Kodiak dropped down at his feet. She adjusted to lay her head near his boots, leaving wet marks on the legs of his jeans. “Some of the kids have already gotten letters inviting them. No matter what you think of me, I’m not heartless, Macy.” He cut his gaze to collide with hers. “I promise, I’m not.”

  “I know you’re not,” she whispered into the growing dark. Rhett had never been a spiteful person. Hurt, but never hurtful.

  They both stared out over the water as the sun tucked itself further into tomorrow.

  “It’s just...” Macy looked up into the sky as if she could find the right words somewhere in the clouds. “Your dad really cared about these programs. He cared about each and every foster kid. I’d hate to see any of the programs get cut.”

  Rhett stiffened. “My dad cared more about those foster kids than he did about his own flesh and blood.” There was no trace of a smile left on his features. Only hurt mixed with a hint of disappointment. “You know I’m right.”

  Bringing up Brock had been a mistake, but it had easily slipped out. Brock and Rhett’s relationship had been tense since Wade’s death. They’d fought over blame instead of helping each other grieve. Macy had never understood how the fault of a boat capsizing in the Gulf of Mexico could belong to either of them.

  Rhett tapped his thigh, causing Kodiak to rise and follow after him.

  “Rhett, please,” she said. “The foster programs, they’re important. They were started because—” Because of you, >she almost said. Right or wrong, they were supposed to be Brock’s love letter to you. “There has to be a way to make it all work.”

  “It’s late, Mace. We can talk about it tomorrow.” He tipped his hat and walked past her up the hill in the direction of the Jarrett house.

  Macy stared after him, watching Kodiak’s tail bob in rhythm with Rhett’s footfall—the whole time wanting to call after him, wanting to spill her secret so he could understand once and for all. So she could help him work through the hurt he felt over his father.

  But she could never tell Rhett that he’d once been one of those children in need.

  That Brock and Leah Jarrett had adopted him.

  Chapter Two

  When Rhett padded into the kitchen at the family ranch the next morning, Shannon offered him a cup of coffee with a sad smile.

  He declined. Shannon consumed at least six cups of the stuff a day, but Rhett had never taken to it. That hardly stopped his sister from trying to get him to drink it whenever she could.

  However, he wished he was a coffee drinker because it had been a long night.

  Rhett bit back a yawn. “Does Mom walk the halls yelling like that often?”

  Shannon nodded, swiping at her eyes. Then she took a long swig from her mug.

  Guilt stabbed through Rhett’s chest. Strong and palpable.

  For the last three years he’d been gone, running Straight Arrow Retrievers, his dog-training business more than a hundred miles away from Red Dog Ranch. For his mom’s sake, Rhett had made a shaky truce with his dad and had visited the ranch a few weekends a year. It had been difficult to find days to visit when Macy wasn’t going to be on property or he would have visited more often. Foolish now that he thought about all he had missed. All for stubborn pride. He had missed his mother’s decline, missed so many days when he could have been spending time with her. Rhett rubbed his jaw.

  He had kept in touch with Shannon, Cassidy and Piper with phone calls and video chats and they had often made the trip out his way for visits when he hadn’t been able to come home.

  But he hadn’t been around when his mom had started showi
ng symptoms. Hadn’t gone along to the countless doctor appointments. Hadn’t been a part of the discussion when her plan of care was decided. And having only been back living in the family house for three days, Rhett scarcely knew how to speak to his mother any longer.

  Dementia.

  Such a small word for such a life-altering disease.

  Before now the extent of his knowledge had sadly been gleaned from TV ads that rattled off more about the dangers of the marketed drug than actually showing the truth of the illness. Commercials that depicted smiling elderly people watching their grandchildren play or sitting hand in hand with their equally elderly spouse.

  All lies.

  Rhett hadn’t been at Red Dog Ranch to watch his mom’s mind deteriorate, but Shannon had. Boone had too, up until he had enrolled in a divinity school last year, moving his wife and daughter out of state in the process.

  Rhett opened his mouth to say something to Shannon but closed it just as quickly. What was there to say? “I’m sorry” sounded small. Too little, too late.

  Six months ago Brock had hired a nurse to be with Mom during the day while he was working and he managed her care at night, but now with Brock gone...they needed to figure something out. Rhett made a mental note to pull out his mom’s insurance information and check over the plan to see what it would cover. The day nurse always arrived before breakfast every morning, but Rhett needed to look into the possibility of having someone with her at night, as well.

  Ever present, Kodiak followed him to the fridge.

  “Not much in there,” Shannon offered. “You’d do better to head to the mess hall. Cassidy does most of the staff meals there.” She jerked her chin to indicate the direction of the mess hall. It was located where the biggest hills began to roll through their property. Their father had insisted on building the dining hall there so that a huge, long basement could be constructed into the hill. All the nonperishable bulk food used to cook staff meals and feed the kids who came for summer camp could be stored there in a cooler environment without wasting tons of energy. The concrete basement also served as a great spot to find momentary relief from the heat of summer. Brock had searched for a contractor who would build into the shape of the land like that for a long time. Basements were rare in Texas.