Chapter Two
One month later
Each time Tara Haden started over, she believed it would be the last. How many do-overs could one person get? It wasn’t as if she were a cat. Though some days she wished she were.
She grabbed her tote bag out of the back seat of her secondhand car and shook away the nerves clawing inside her stomach. Backwater, with its small-town charm, would be her final stop on a very long road to a new beginning. The continuous running had worn her down like the balding tires on her car. She no longer would give her power away to her piece-of-crap ex-husband. She would make a life in Backwater for her and Royce. Her son deserved to be settled somewhere he could make friends, go to a school void of entitled, selfish kids. Okay, not completely void, but certainly fewer than the one school he had been in. She wouldn’t allow her son to believe the world revolved around him the way his father did. Drew would not take away Royce’s chance for a normal life. And Drew would not take her dignity from her again.
“Come on, Royce.” She helped her five-year-old unbuckle his car seat and jump to the ground. Every choice she had made had been for him, and that included taking this new job on the Ryker Ranch.
The sun swelled, bloated with its warmth, in the clear blue sky and made her long sweater a burden. The Ryker Ranch burst with activity around her. Horse-riding lessons took place in the pasture alongside the parking area. A couple, deep in conversation, sat in rocking chairs on the porch and sipped from to-go cups. A group of people laughing and patting each other on the back came through the tree line. They were dressed as if they’d stepped out of a sporting-goods magazine for the woodsy, outdoors person. Guests probably on a hike. Living on a ranch full of people was exactly what she needed this time. Because, much like Royce, she needed a friend or two as well. She needed a place to fit in as herself and not as ex-pro tight end Drew Paxton’s wife.
Royce looked up at her with his wide, gray eyes and clutched his stuffed cow to his small chest. “I need the bathroom.”
“We’ll find one.” As soon as she checked in with her new boss. She grabbed Royce’s hand to keep him from racing through the parking lot. Her appointment with Mr. Ryker was inside that adorable building that housed guests and the Ryker family. The porch decorations invited her to settle in and stick around. Orange marigolds and yellow mums squatted with glee in wood barrels. The pumpkins and bales of hay were arranged with care alongside cornstalks.
Royce lunged for the porch, grabbing a pumpkin from a bale of hay. “Look, Mommy. Like in my book.” He patted the top of the pumpkin with his chubby hands. His smile spread wide and creased a line in his cheek. He already had his father’s good looks. Of course, she was biased about her son, but most women would agree about Drew.
The couple in the rocking chairs turned toward them. The woman’s face bent in a scowl as she took in her and Royce. She wanted to flip her the bird for staring and probably assuming Tara was trash based on her car and her looks—she’d had that problem before—but that wasn’t professional or proper motherly behavior. It would also convince the woman she was right, which made Tara want to do it more.
“We shouldn’t touch, buddy. The wicked witches come out and steal all the pumpkins when we do.” She glared at the woman whose mouth gaped open.
“I won’t do that. Can we get our own pumpkin?” Royce bounced on his toes. The need for the bathroom increased. He was doing his telltale sign. She had better find one and fast.
“After we go to the bathroom.”
The front door swung open with hurricane force, missing her by inches. A man in an olive-green Henley that stretched across his muscular arms barreled through, nearly knocking her off her booted feet.
“Whoa, be careful.” Her riled words flew off her lips before she could snag them and harness them in place, but the last thing she needed was to get knocked on her backside by a door or a man.
“Sorry. I didn’t see you there.” He put up a hand to steady her, but he was wasting his time. She didn’t need him to catch her.
“Were you looking at all?” Because he could not have possibly been.
“Not really. I’m in a hurry. And besides, people don’t usually stand in front of swinging doors unless they want to get hit by one.” The glower on his bearded face gave him a bad-boy-in-a-beer-commercial image. He wore it well, but that didn’t change the fact he almost ran her over.
Still, she couldn’t help but notice how well the color of the shirt suited his dark skin and that the buttons of the thin fabric were undone in a V shape, offering a partial view of his powerful chest. His black hair was pulled back in a small, messy bun, as if he didn’t have the time to fuss with it. Which he must not if he was in such an almighty hurry and not looking where he was going.
“Mommy, the bathroom.” Royce tugged on her pant leg.
“In a sec, sweetie.” She turned back to the man. “I had no idea you were about to come out that second. It’s not as if the door is made of glass.”
“Kace, are you ready to go?” Another male voice drifted through the air and hovered between them on the porch.
Kace? Where had she heard that name before? The realization hit her like a falling tree. The ranch was owned by four brothers. She had interviewed with Jett and Lock, short for Lockwood. Unusual name. The other two didn’t work on the ranch, but she remembered their names from the website. Now that she took a good look at the man in front of her, the resemblance between the men was uncanny. Her stomach hollowed out. She’d just mouthed off to her new boss. He might not work on the ranch or make any daily decisions, as Jett had said, but if his last name was Ryker, she was screwed.
“You’re staring,” he said and pulled her thoughts back.
“Are you Kace Ryker?” She suppressed the groan that wished to follow her question. She needed to learn to keep her mouth shut, but she was tired of watching her tongue. A lot of good it ever did her.
He narrowed his eyes. “Have we met?”
“Kace, now. We’re going to be late,” the man yelled again from the parking lot.
She didn’t want to stare at either man, but a glance in the direction of the one yelling showed her that he must be the other brother. The sheriff. The uniform was a dead giveaway. She kind of wished the porch would swallow her up.
“Mommy. I really have to go.” Royce bounced more.
“Stop acting like Mom,” Kace yelled back, then turned to her. “You didn’t answer me. Have we met? On the racing circuit maybe?”
“Mommy.” Royce’s voice dragged her name over five high-pitched syllables. The smell of urine infiltrated the space around them. Her heart sank. First her big mouth and now this. She had just proved irrevocably that she was not only the worst mother, but an irresponsible employee.
Kace wrinkled his nose. She braced herself for the barrage of complaints about to assault her. The couple jumped from the rockers and ran off the porch in the other direction. Royce broke out into tears.
She should have minded her own business and found her son a bathroom. When would she learn? Hadn’t her problem always been that she spoke up at the wrong time and usually when it was too late? She dumped her tote on a nearby porch swing and moved Royce out of the mess.
“I’ll clean it up. Don’t cry, buddy. It’s okay.” But was it? Ever since she had decided to leave Drew, nothing felt okay. And it should. Staying with him had been a mistake, and maybe so was taking the job here.
The door swung open again. Another man hurried out and stopped short. Jett. His gaze took in the scene, lingering on the puddle ruining his porch. Here was the moment Jett fired her.
“Looks like we need a mop. Hey, Tara.” His smile seemed genuine.
“Hi, Jett.” She stuck out her hand but wasn’t sure if it was still clean and shoved it behind her back. “I’m sorry about the mess. If you have some white vinegar, I can clean it right up.”
“You know her?” Kace said, turning to Jett.
“Kace, I’m leaving your ass here if you don’t come now,” the man in the lot yelled again.
“Gage, shut the hell up,” Kace yelled back. He turned to Royce. “Sorry about the bad words, little man. How about if I get you some dry clothes?”
Royce shook his head. “I’m not allowed to talk to strangers.”
Her heart wanted to burst with pride for her little boy. “These two men are Mommy’s new bosses. If I’m here, you can talk to them.”
Royce shook his head and hid behind her leg.
She needed to gain some control of this situation and prove she could handle herself, her son, and the occasional crisis. She glanced at Kace. “I’m Tara Haden. The new massage therapist. Thank you for offering to get him clean clothes. I have some in the car for him.”
“Well, that’s good because I don’t even know if we have any clothes for kids. Is the car locked? I’ll get them.” Something soft and kind replaced the glare in his dark-brown eyes, startling her.
“I’ll get something to clean the porch,” Jett said. “Don’t sweat it, Royce. You see this big lug right here?” He hitched a thumb at Kace. “He wet his pants until he was thirteen.” He barked out a laugh and went inside.
“My big brother thinks he’s funny. Do you have any brothers?” Kace squatted down to Royce’s level.
Royce came out from behind her leg and stared at Kace. “No.”
“You’re lucky. I have three. That’s three too many. I like your cow.” He ruffled Royce’s hair and stood. “Give me your keys. I’ll get your bag.”
“No, thank you. I have it under control.” She would not take his help no matter how kind he was to Royce. She didn’t need help, didn’t want help, couldn’t rely on anyone to help.
“Suit yourself. See ya, Royce.” He trotted down the steps, all muscle and swagger.
Heat flushed her cheeks. She turned to watch him go, as if a magnetic force pulled her gaze that way. The first steps of that strut seemed unsure, almost as if the ground shifted without warning him, but he corrected it quickly and slid into the truck waiting for him. If she hadn’t been accustomed to watching body movement for her job, she might have missed his falter. He hadn’t appeared drunk. Maybe just a simple misstep? Or was it something more? Whatever had Kace Ryker off balance was none of her concern. She was through with worrying about men and their needs.
“Mommy, I’m sorry.”
She squatted down and wiped a tear from Royce’s face. “Don’t be sorry. It was my fault. You told me you needed to go. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
She led Royce back to the car and changed his clothes. Jett returned with a bucket and a mop. At least she hadn’t lost her job yet. She needed Backwater and the Ryker Ranch to be her chance to start over. As long as her ex-husband stayed away, and she avoided Kace, things might work out this time.
But things rarely did.