Page 4 of A Cowboy's Claim
Declan settled at the dining room table. The massive wooden surface was large enough to seat sixteen without crowding, and it had become the heart of the High Water home. Not just for him and his brothers, but for everyone who found shelter, even temporarily, at the ranch.
And that list was growing. Constantly changing as people who needed a little time away from their past mistakes and some help to get back on their feet arrived and then left. Most of the men stayed for under a week although a few had needed close to a month to put their affairs in order.
Logan had arrived nearly five months ago, beat up and super cagey about his past. While he hadn’t shared much yet, he’d slowly and steadily proved his worth, and he now seemed nearly as firm a member as the young woman who’d raced out the door moments earlier.
Logan dodged sharing the same way Declan had dodged feeling anything real for months after his wife had died. Watching the kid, Declan wondered how long someone could carry secrets before they buckled.
Jinx had arrived nearly a year ago, and was now known in the community as Declan’s ward. Getting to watch the seventeen-year-old lose her fearfulness so her real personality shone through made every bit of work it had taken to get to this point worth it.
The only full-time staff at Heart Falls was their live-in psychologist, Kevin Robb. He seemed to have his own ghosts to deal with, but mostly, he kept all of them at the ranch subtly focused on finding a smoother path forward.
The most recent permanent arrival was Jeffrey, Jake and Tansy’s five-year-old son, and having a kid around was still a huge adjustment?—
The sound of Aiden clearing his throat brought Declan’s attention back from his musings.
“You’ve been pretty distracted lately, so I wanted to make sure you remembered we have a new ranch hand arriving any minute.” Aiden kept his gaze fixed on Declan.
“I knew that.” Declan fought for the details. “A Rick. Or a Ryan?”
“Russ.” Silence fell for a moment before Aiden cleared his throat again. “If you want me to take lead on this one, I’m willing. You don’t have to always be the one?—”
“I’m fine. But you’re right; I’ve been distracted. It’s not fair to any of you,” Declan announced firmly.
Daydreaming was one thing, and his mind was tangled with all of the things he’d been pondering lately, especially since he’d gotten injured.
Fucking around enough that he couldn’t do his job was inexcusable, though. If he couldn’t hold the ranch together, what business did he have trying to build something with a woman like Sydney? “I’ll get him settled, and we’ll prep the stalls for the seniors coming in tomorrow.”
“Seniors?”
“A woman in the foothills is moving into town. She’s placing the rest of her livestock, but the two oldest horses are being retired.”
Aiden grinned. “We’re becoming a retreat for horses in their golden years.”
“I have a soft spot.”
“No argument here,” Aiden said then nodded toward the table. “I did get a lead on a new dining table. Community hall over-ordered. Malachi asked if we wanted one.”
Declan frowned. He’d been tracing the tabletop under his fingers unconsciously as he spoke. The surface was marred with teeny nicks and scratches from wayward cutlery and overly enthusiastic moments during family game nights. “What would we need a new table for? This one seats sixteen. There’s no room for anything bigger.”
Aiden shrugged. “It’s big enough, but it’s a little beat up.”
Somehow, the offer felt wrong. “This one is still sturdy, and now it’s got some character. Being a little bumped and bruised is sometimes what gives a thing its value,” Declan pointed out.
His brother paused then nodded slowly. “Good way to think of it. I’ll let Malachi know thanks anyway, but we don’t need the new one.”
A knock sounded, and Declan headed to the door.
The man on the porch wore a dirty backpack and an even dirtier baseball cap. He peered past Declan into the house before meeting his eyes. “This High Water?”
“It is.”
The man glanced over the porch toward the barns and building that held the guest housing. “Heard you might need help for a few days.”
“We do. I’m Declan. Come with me.”
“Food first,” the man snapped, then winced. “Sorry. Haven’t eaten in a bit.”
Which sometimes happened, so Declan ignored the momentary rudeness. “Supper’s in a couple of hours, but there’s a basket of food in your room. Most people tend to need something to tide them over when they arrive. We’re used to it.” He put his hat on and stepped off the porch, trusting that Russ would follow.
