To Trust A Rancher. Debbi Rawlins
could see her mind working. She’d probably tell him to go to hell, which wouldn’t be entirely undeserved—Amy had always been headstrong. But he knew Amy hadn’t been keen on going to LA because she’d told him so. She’d gone for Becca’s sake.
After several moments of charged silence, Becca pushed back in her chair and stood. “Well, I believe we’ve said all there is to say, so if you’ll excuse me...we have a full day planned.”
“You haven’t answered me.”
“Oh, was there a question in there?” She hadn’t bothered to keep her voice down. Apparently she’d rather wake her son than have to finish their conversation. “It sounded more like an accusation.”
Her expression startled him.
She wasn’t just angry. Becca looked hurt. Hell, what did she expect? She had a lot of nerve to show up and pretend she didn’t have news of Amy. Then to admit she’d deserted his sister. He saw her hand tremble slightly. No. No way. He wouldn’t feel sorry for her.
He thought back to yesterday at the Food Mart. The way his mom had fawned over her had pissed him off. The memory put him to rights. If Becca was upset, it was her own doing.
“Look,” he said, “how about we call a truce?”
“I have no quarrel with you. Anyway, I doubt we’ll run into each other again.”
He bit back a curse. “You promised to call my mom.”
“And I will.” She walked past him, waving a hand as if she were dismissing him.
Ryder caught her wrist. “Don’t wake the boy yet. We need to settle this first.” He moved his thumb against her inner wrist. So soft.
She glared at him. “Let me go.”
He released her and cleared his throat. “Look, I’m asking you on behalf of my mother.”
“Did she send you?”
“She doesn’t know I’m here, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”
“I won’t say anything.” Becca absently rubbed her wrist.
His grip hadn’t been tight enough to hurt her. Was she trying to play him? Good luck. He’d run low on sympathy long before today. Unfortunately, he could tell she wasn’t going to accept his mom’s invitation.
“Come on, be smart. Staying at the Sundowner means you’d save some money.” Unlike Becca, he continued to keep his voice low. “And Noah would have lots of space and plenty to occupy him. Don’t let how we feel about each other influence your decision. You’d hardly see me.”
Her brows rose. “How we feel about each other? I hadn’t given you a single thought before yesterday.”
“If I recall, neither of us were exactly overjoyed.”
“Oh.” She blushed and looked away. “Right. Anyway, moot point.”
Ryder wondered about the sudden awkwardness, then remembered Amy teasing him about Becca having a crush on him. But that had been kid stuff, at least ten years ago. Something else was bothering her.
She stood beside the bed where Noah was curled up, gazing down at her son with so much heart it stopped him in his tracks. Whatever her faults, she certainly loved that child. With no husband in the picture and living in an expensive city like LA? Maybe the kid’s father helped out some, but Ryder had the feeling that wasn’t the case. Either way, he gave her credit.
“Wait,” he said when she was about to wake the boy. She was a mother. He knew how to appeal to her. “I doubt Amy told you. She might not even know since her calls had dropped off, but my mom had a stroke.”
“Oh, no. When?”
“A couple years ago.”
“I wondered about the cane. I’m really sorry. Despite...everything, I’ve always liked your mom. A lot. Your father, too. They were both nice to me.” She winced. “Even after my mom left and I wasn’t at my best.”
Ryder laughed. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“Hey, I could’ve been worse.”
Noah stirred.
Ryder hurried on. “After seeing you and Noah yesterday, she was the happiest I’ve seen her in years. As soon as we got home, she started freshening up the guest rooms and writing out meal plans...”
Becca briefly nibbled at her lower lip, eyeing him suspiciously. “Playing dirty, are we?”
“Just telling it like it is.”
She hesitated, then turned back to her son. “Noah? Time to wake up, sleepyhead.”
Ryder sighed. So she was willing to use the kid to avoid answering? Fine.
Noah jerked his head up with a start. He blinked, looked around, but didn’t see Becca behind him. He rubbed both eyes with small fists and immediately started to cry.
“Hey, Mr. Cranky Pants...” Placing a hand on his shoulder, she sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m right here.”
Those weren’t crocodile tears. He looked genuinely afraid until he turned and buried his face against his mom’s chest. She held him close and stroked his back. “It’s okay, sweetie. We’re in the motel with the elevator you like to ride, remember?”
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