Page 2 of Her Saltwater Cowboy

Chance held his tongue at his father’s dig about his education, but was not about to let up. “What about the old barn roof we’ve been talking about replacing, and the cattle gates that need replacing?”

“The barn roof’ll hold for now, and Rafael can handle the gates once he’s caught up with the other changes around here.”

Chance’s jaw clicked. “The barn roof definitely won’t hold out much longer …” he muttered.

He took a breath and forced himself to sit back and absorb what he’d just learned. Finally, he said, “I’ve been right here, all along, Ace, carrying my weight—carrying the weight of three hands at times.”

Ace paused, his focus on his son. “It’s true you’ve done well. I’ve been impressed with your work, though I thought you might have left us again by now.”

“Never said I had plans to leave.”

His father’s eyes blazed. “You’ve never said you had plans to stay either.”

Quiet enveloped them for a beat. He didn’t need this. If Chance wanted to, he could swap his boots for dress shoes and go back to corporate America. Muscles in his gut clenched. “And Rafael? You’re sure he won’t leave again?”

Ace looked away. “You don’t know anything about that.”

Chance shifted, but he did not back down. “I know your fight with him years ago made our mother cry. He was like a little brother to us, and then, suddenly, he wasn’t.” His mother had called him with the story of how his teenage cousin showed up drunk and ornery in the middle of the night to have it out with his uncle. Ace had thrown the kid off the property that night, and Rafael swore he would never return. He had made good on his word. Until recently.

“That boy came back here and made his peace. Asked me for forgiveness. He’s my sister’s son.” On the word “sister,” Ace’s voice cracked, and Chance knew his father had regrets about not reaching out to his kin before her death. “It took a lot of humility for him to come here and face me again.”

“So that’s it. He and his family are moving to the ranch, and I don’t have a say in the matter.”

“You don’t need one.”

Willow peeked in through the doorway. “Would either of you like seconds?”

Ace dusted his hands in front of himself and pushed away from the table. “No, ma’am. You’ve overfed me as it is.”

Willow smiled as she walked over and whisked Ace’s empty plate from the table. “I’m glad to hear it.” She glanced at Chance’s plate and frowned. “Was something wrong with your food, Chance?”

Ace stood. “My son’s not all that pleased with the company right now.”

Chance rose to his feet. He unlocked his jaw. “Not exactly true.”

“Oh no? Then prove it by helping me ready this place for our new residents.” Ace swung a look at the cook. “And I’ll need your help as well, Willow.”

“Yes, of course, Ace. Absolutely. Anything you need.”

“The wife of our new foreman is a vegetarian, by the way.”

Chance tried not to laugh outright at the slight lift of Willow’s delicate eyebrows. “Not a problem,” she sang out as she carried both plates from the dining room and into the kitchen.

Ace turned to leave, then pivoted back. He reached over and placed a meaty hand on his son’s shoulder. “I’m trusting in you.”

Those words carried weight like gold. A million memories clipped through Chance’s head, like slides in one of those old projectors. It’s why he had come back after college and, later, a corporate accounting job took him away.

It was also the lack of hearing such sentiments that kept him and his brothers away for so long. He’d hoped to change that, to smooth things over between his father and brothers, so they could be the family they had once been. Maybe even lure them back to the ranch someday.

But how would he convince them now when their father all but gave the running of the place over to their cousin, who had broken from the family so many years ago?

Chance gave his father a sober look, but nodded once quickly, hoping to placate him. He had a horse to ride, fencing to fix, parts to order. Honestly, he’d rather be mucking out stalls than be in this stifling dining room a minute longer, turning over dark thoughts in his head.

His father turned to leave and stopped, eyeing him. “And son?”

“Yes?”

“Make sure to shave before dinnertime.”

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