Second Chance Ranch Chapter 16

Chapter SIXTEEN:

Squire explained about the mare giving birth at the ranch as he drove Kelly home. “I’m the new animal care,” he said. “At least for a little while.” He frowned as he looked out the window, wishing he hadn’t vocalized the end-date to his veterinarian duties.

After all, that was obviously a point of concern for Kelly. As well it should be, he thought. She did have a job in the Panhandle, and she did need to take care of Finn—and herself. He toyed with the idea of asking her to come with him to College Station, but she barely seemed ready to be alone with him.

Not only that, but he hadn’t even heard from the program yet. This might be a non-issue, and if there was one thing Squire had learned from his time overseas, it was to only assess what was true, not what might be.

He also couldn’t go too fast, not with Kelly, and not with her little boy. Which was why he needed an airtight game plan about College Station before he said anything.

Thus, the short ride back to her parents’ place on the northeast side of town happened quickly and silently.

“I gotta get Bense,” he said after he helped her bring in her groceries. He moved toward the backyard to find his dog. Kelly followed him, and Squire caught her wrist as she reached for the door. Her skin felt like silk, and he took a deep breath of her creamy scent, catching a hint of earth from gardening and a blast of chocolate from her lips. Just thinking about her mouth sent him into a tailspin.

“Squire,” she whispered. “My mother is right there.”

Like he cared. But she did, and Squire wouldn’t do anything to upset her, not now that he finally felt like he had a shot with her. “Can I sit by you at church tomorrow?” He touched his lips to her forehead. “I’ll behave myself.”

She pushed against his chest but only succeeded in putting an inch between them. “Like you are now?”

It may have been his imagination, but she sounded beyond breathless. Surprised he could influence her to forget to breathe, he stepped back. “Better than now,” he promised. “Like choir boy good. I swear.”

She cocked her head to the side and studied him. When she smiled, he smelled victory.

“Okay,” she said. “But nothing funny.”

“Oh, I’m serious about you, darlin’.” He pushed open the door and left her standing in the house. “Hey, Mrs. Armstrong.” He scanned the backyard, which was devoid of dogs and little boys. “I’m lookin’ for Benson. I have to get back to the ranch.”

“Oh, Will took him and Finn down to the creek,” Ivory said. “I’m sorry. We didn’t know you’d need to go so quickly.”

“It’s fine,” Squire said, an itch starting under his skin. It had been at least fifteen minutes since Clark had texted about the mare going into labor, and he still had a long drive in front of him until he’d arrive back at the ranch.

“Kelly can bring him to work on Monday.” He turned as she joined them on the deck. “That okay, Kel? Bringing Benson out to the ranch on Monday?”

“Or you could come over after church tomorrow. Have lunch with us?” She raised her eyebrows at her mom, who nodded.

“Lunch sounds great.” Her beauty made him ache, but his attraction to her had always gone deeper than that. Watching her care for Finn only reminded him of how sensitive she was, how selfless to take care of others before herself.

Clark texted again, and Squire cursed the timing of the universe. “I really have to go,” he said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

He left, frustrated even though he’d gotten his wish. But five hundred miles was a long way, and four years a very long time. Especially for a beautiful woman like Kelly. He could see and feel her walls going back up. She wasn’t ready for so much so fast, but his time in Three Rivers was running out.

* * *

“There’s the head,” Squire said, and in the next moment, the foal slipped out of his mother. He stood back and let the baby find its feet while Raven labored to hers. She immediately began taking care of her little one, and Squire smiled to himself.

He looked at Clark and his father, and they both seemed like he’d done something amazing. He hadn’t, because animals had young in the wild all the time. He could admit a buzz rode in his veins, but that could’ve been from the successful birth, the sugar from his ice cream cone, or kissing Kelly. 

He thought it might be a toss-up, then quickly deciding nothing in this world was as good as kissing Kelly Armstrong. Absolutely nothing. 

“Good job, son,” his dad said, clapping him on the shoulder, and he and Clark left Squire to clean up. He watched the horses bed down together, the little one looking for something to eat. 

He had nothing but time here, but the internal clock in his life felt like it banged instead of clicked. It was already July, and school began right after Labor Day. Less than two months.

“People fall in love in two months all the time,” he told himself a he bent to pick up the rags. It was why the town of Three Rivers held summer dances and dating events all summer long.

Once he got back to the privacy of his cabin, and his time was his own, he planned to see what the town had available in the way of dating options. 

He could take Kelly and Finn to the apple orchards. That generally provided a couple of hours of fun, with cider tastings and baking demos. They had all the Fourth of July things still happening, from pancake breakfasts to rodeos to those dances.

He wondered if she’d want to attend one. He didn’t, because anything that called attention to his stilted gait, he didn’t like. He’d nearly killed himself going down to the well today, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself.

His fantasies of kissing Kelly there couldn’t be realized if he didn’t take her to that well. It had irritated and frustrated him that he wasn’t his seventeen-year-old self, running through the trees as he called to his friends, all of them leaping down the ravine like it was nothing.

Back then, it had been. Now, with all the metal holding his leg together, that ravine was definitely something. A challenge.

It was a good thing he’d never shied away from a challenge—just like finding the missing money and dating Kelly. 

“Dear Lord,” he whispered as he finished cleaning up. “Please bless this summer.” He didn’t want to get too specific, because he was sure God wearied of his pleas from time to time. Maybe a blanket prayer would get him everything he wanted all the same.

* * *

“What happened in town?” his mom asked later that evening.

“Nothing.” Squire looked up from his silent phone, trying to eradicate the hope that Kelly would text. He hadn’t heard from her in the few hours since he’d jogged out of her backyard and left his dog for her to take care of.

“Well, something did,” his mom said, her needle going in and out, in and out, of the apron she was working on. “You’ve been acting moody since you got back.”

Not surprised that she’d noticed, but definitely worried that he had been acting different, he shrugged. “Nothing. Planted a garden, got your groceries.”

Kissed Kelly.

She set aside her sewing, which ignited Squire’s nerves. His mother’s undivided attention meant a conversation he wouldn’t enjoy.

“Please. Give me some credit. I know you like that woman.”

“What woman?” he asked innocently, silently begging his mother to drop this. Especially before his father came in from the administration trailer. Clark and his father would undoubtedly be discussing what they should do with the new foal. Ranch business. Stuff Squire didn’t care about, and now didn’t have to pretend he did.

The scent of dinner hung in the air, and Squire shouldn’t have been greedy. He could heat up some hot dogs and mac and cheese in his own cabin. His mother’s cooking had always been a temptation for him, and he’d often bragged about it to his Army buddies as a way to alleviate his homesickness.

His mother clucked her tongue. “You can’t keep everything bottled up,” she said, picking up her sewing again. “It’s not healthy.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not Chelsea, Ma. I don’t need to talk everything to death.”

“It would be nice if you said something. Women like it when men talk about things.”

He considered her advice. He wasn’t great at expressing himself. It was one of the things that served him well in the Army, but not in his past relationships. If he’d said something to Kelly, to Chelsea, to anyone, ten years ago, everything might have turned out differently.

“I’m going back to veterinary school,” he finally said. “That’s what’s the matter.”

Her needle went flying through the fabric. Up and down. “I thought you wanted to go back to school.”

“I do,” he said. “Kelly doesn’t.” Rather, he didn’t know how she felt. He had no idea if she’d uproot her son and move with him to College Station. Neither of them knew if she could get a job. Squire didn’t even know if his GI Bill would pay for school, or how he’d have enough money to live. He’d probably have to get a job too.

Before his mom could answer, his dad came in, wiping his hands on his jeans. His mother abandoned her sewing and crossed the room to ask him about the new foal. Squire had thought he wanted company tonight. As his parents discussed the newest addition to the ranch, he slipped out the patio door in favor of his empty cabin—where he didn’t have to talk about how he felt, his future, or his failures.

Yes, hot dogs would do just fine tonight.

* * *

As Squire neared his cabin, his Army warning radar blared. Louder and louder. He paused near the edge of the garden, the row of cabins in plain view. They looked like any other Saturday night. Dark and empty, as the boys usually trucked into town on the weekends for those dances, their dinner dates, and anything else that was more fun than being out here alone.

The parking lot, where he might have seen a visitor’s car, was blocked by the equipment shed and the calving stalls. His stomach flipped as a noise—a small clink—sounded to his left. He spun just as a man came out of his cabin.

His cabin, whom he shared with no one.

Squire squinted into the rapidly darkening sky. His pulse pounded for several beats until the man laughed.

“Major Ackerman,” he said, striding forward.

Recognition washed over Squire. “Pete?” he asked, but there was no doubt it was Squire’s First Lieutenant, Peter Marshall.

Squire didn’t have to look to know Pete’s entire left arm was covered in bright pink scar tissue. The burn extended onto his torso and kissed his neck. Pete had undergone a number of skin grafts, his texts about the surgeries and recoveries always the same: At least my face is still as pretty as ever.

“What are you doing here?” Squire asked.

Pete steamrolled right into Squire, hugging him tightly, still chuckling. Squire gripped him back, relieved to see him in such high spirits. Of course, Pete had always been the glass-half-full kind of man.

“I just got discharged.” He glanced around, examining the sky. “You’re right. This place is magical. Just as much sky as Kandahar, but not nearly as hot.”

“Wait a few weeks,” Squire said, smiling. “It turns sweltering.”

“I’m planning to stay a while,” he said. “Your dad offered me a job.”

Squire hadn’t realized how checked out he’d been while buried in dusty files and entrenched in figuring out how to make things work with Kelly. “When did you talk to my father?”

“Couple of days ago. Called that number you gave me. Your controller said you were busy, but gave me to your dad. I got here this morning, but I guess you were off planting someone’s garden.” Pete shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, a knowing smile on his face.

Though Squire outranked Pete, a flush still warmed his neck. He employed his military training to keep from clearing his throat. “So you thought you’d invade my cabin?”

“Your dad said I could bunk with you since all the other cabins are already doubly occupied.”

“Sure, yeah,” Squire said, wondering why his father hadn’t said anything. They’d been together in the past couple of days, at least for a few minutes. Maybe not as much as Squire and Kelly, but enough for his daddy to tell him Pete was coming. “You get settled in?”

“Yes,” Pete said, cuffing him on the shoulder. “So let’s go out. I talked to a couple of guys who said there’s a great place for wings in town. I haven’t had anything good to eat in ages. Hospital food is disgusting.”

“Well, you came to the right place.”

“I know, I know.” Pete rolled his eyes. “You’ve been bragging about your mother’s cooking since the day I met you.” He nudged him toward the parking lot. “But I want wings tonight, Major. Wings.”

He strode away, and Squire didn’t hesitate before following his best friend. With Pete, he knew exactly where he stood. It was easy to laugh with him, reminisce about the desert they’d experienced together, and help him flirt with the waitress Pete thought was pretty.

Squire supposed the tall woman with dark hair could be considered pretty. “You know I know all about Tammy,” he said, stirring his bleu cheese dressing with a celery stick.

Pete tore his gaze from her retreating figure. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Squire related what he knew—the most embarrassing things. Who she dated in high school, that she’d once worn a bathing suit to school just to see what old Principal Henderson would do. She’d been sent home to change and never came back.

Squire chuckled just thinking about it. “Tammy’s never a dull moment.”

“Just what I need, brother.” Pete’s gaze wandered back to Tammy, his appetite for the wings obviously satisfied. “What about you? You see anyone here you like?”

Squire almost choked on his water. “You must not remember me,” he said. “I don’t look for women in a sports bar.”

Pete laughed, the sound boisterous and infectious. “Oh, that’s right. You’re in love with that girl from high school.”

“No,” Squire said, coughing to cover his embarrassment. He couldn’t remember telling Pete about Kelly, ever. He’d never felt the need to re-live the humiliation.

“So.” Pete’s eyes glinted with humor, with that all-knowing look that said he knew more than he was saying out loud. Squire knew that look, and he didn’t like it. “Pick one.” Pete swept his arm out, indicating the whole bar. He wore a compression sleeve over his arm, and on the drive to town Squire had learned that the hospital in West Virginia where Pete had been all these months had finally done all they could for him.

Now, Pete practically wore a laugh on his face. “Just pick one, Major. You don’t have to marry her.”

Squire narrowed his eyes, wondering why it mattered if he kept Kelly a secret from Pete now. He’d kissed the woman earlier today, and he was going to take her to dinner this week.

In his book, they were together. Dating. 

“Fine,” he said. “I pick the girl I knew in high school.” He lifted his soda to his lips. “But I didn’t tell you about her.” He raised his eyebrows, clearly asking how Pete knew.

“Your mom said you’d gone into town to plant someone’s garden,” Pete started. “I asked questions until she said you’d gone to help your girlfriend’s parents.” He threw back another chicken wing. “After that, she had a lot of stories to tell.”

“Kelly is not my girlfriend,” Squire practically growled. His mom had no right to be saying such things. With a start, Squire realized that words like girlfriend could get back to Kelly in a matter of minutes. He glanced around to see who was sitting close enough to overhear.

A trio of women twittered nearby. None of them looked at him, and he focused back on Pete. “Please don’t say anything. I’m just—we’re just—she works at the ranch.”

“So I’ll get to meet her on Monday.” Pete leaned back and crossed his arms. The king on his throne.

“Tomorrow, if you want to go to church,” Squire said. His mind whispered at him about labels, and how Kelly actually wanted them. Maybe he didn’t need to worry about her hearing about this conversation second-hand.

Pete’s jovial mood finally deflated a notch. “Church, Major?” He took a swig of his club soda. “Not really a church goer.”

“Really?” Squire asked. “But we talked about religion all the time.”

“I believe in God. I just don’t go to church.”

“You should come with me,” Squire said. “Our pastor says good things.”

“Maybe.” Pete sat up straighter as Tammy approached.

“Just a couple more minutes on those fries, boys,” she said, sashaying away as fast as she’d come.

Bright lights in red, blue, and green lit up the front window, followed immediately by the sharp snap and pop of shooting. Without thinking, without breathing, Squire ducked his head, slid off his chair, and got as low as he could.

Four seconds passed before he realized he wasn’t in the Abrams, wasn’t driving through the desert, wasn’t being attacked by the enemy. By five seconds, he realized the sounds and lights had been fireworks.

By six seconds, he met Pete’s gaze without having to look up, because the lieutenant had landed under the table too.

At seven seconds, he and Pete straightened. Embarrassment crawled up Squire’s neck as he took his seat, the tension in the air as thick as black smoke.

“Dropped my napkin,” Pete announced to the ladies at the next table over, all of whom had turned toward the two of them.

They went back to their business, leaving Pete and Squire to look at each other. Squire broke the tension by chugging his soda. “Glad it’s not just me that’s jumpy.”

“And you’ve been home longer than me,” Pete said. “The hospital is no Texas paradise.”

“No shooting, though.”

“Unless you count the drugs they kept pumping into me with those sharp needles.” Pete glanced away, his somberness disappearing as Tammy approached with his cheese fries. “Help me get her to go out with me,” he hissed to Squire. 

“He-ey,” he said louder as she set the plate in front of him. He seemed to have nothing else to say, because he kicked Squire under the table. At least it was in his good leg and not his wounded one.

“Hey, Tammy,” he said, throwing Pete a glare. Luckily, he knew exactly how to get Pete back. “You goin’ to church tomorrow?”

Pete’s look could’ve murdered Squire. He chuckled as Tammy said, “Sure am. Will you boys be there?”