Home on the Ranch: Montana Redemption
Autorzy
Amanda Renee
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19,9K
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Chapter 1
A backbreaking day on the ranch was better than his best day in prison. Ryder Slade welcomed hard work after getting paroled a week earlier. Unfortunately, his body had forgotten the punishing side of ranch life and he’d pay for it later. He wouldn’t complain though. It may be in his job description to help rescue and care for animals at the Free Rein Wild Horse and Donkey Sanctuary, but they were rescuing him. So was his ex-wife, Tori James.
Despite their divorce and her subsequent remarriage, Tori had remained his dearest friend. She’d stood by him during his five-and-a-half-year stint behind bars, when most of his family had kept their distance. Not that he blamed them. After all, he’d been sentenced to ten years for killing his father. Confessing to involuntary manslaughter had been the best and worst decision he’d ever made. It had also had more consequences than he’d ever imagined.
“How are you doing out here?” Tori braked beside him and handed him a bottle of water through the window of her seen-better-days pickup.
Ryder used the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow, then thirstily twisted off the cap. “Thank you.” He took a long swig as he gazed out over the couple hundred acres his ex-wife had purchased after his incarceration. “I’m almost finished replacing this post, then I’ll head in. What time did you say the hay delivery was coming?”
Tori checked her watch. “Around four, so you have an hour. I’m on my way to pick up Missy from school, but I should be back by then. And Nate will be home this weekend, so he can help you replace the remaining fence posts.”
He still couldn’t believe Tori’s husband of two years had agreed to allow Ryder to live and work on the ranch while he stayed out on the road as a long-haul truck driver. “There’s more than a weekend’s worth of fencing to repair. For now, I’m choosing the absolute worst ones to keep the cost down.”
Free Rein operated on a bare-bones budget, relying mostly on donations and adoption fees. That lack of funding affected his wallet too, but housing was a condition of his parole for the next three years and that meant more to him than a decent paycheck. Besides, Tori had been the only person in Saddle Ridge willing to hire him. Moving back to his hometown in northwestern Montana gave him a better chance to salvage any relationship he had left with his family...if a chance even existed.
“I’m making tuna-noodle casserole for dinner, so be sure to come up to the house for a plate later.”
Ryder’s mouth watered at the mere mention of his favorite dish. His mother had given Tori the recipe along with many others on their wedding day with a note reading: The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.
“We’ve already gone over this.” Ryder tightened his grip on the water bottle, almost crushing it. “As much as I appreciate the invite, you’re not responsible for feeding me.”
“It’s the least I can do after the sacrifices you’ve made.”
Ryder ground his back teeth. “Let’s not go there.”
“Fine, I won’t force you to discuss it, but I wish you’d acknowledge what you’ve done.” A worn belt screeched under the hood of her truck. “And there’s another item on my list of things to do.”
“I can replace it for you,” Ryder said, grateful for the subject change.
“I just may take you up on that offer if Nate doesn’t get to it on Saturday.” She reached for her phone and typed in a note before tossing it onto the passenger side of the worn bench seat. “As I was saying, I don’t know anyone who would throw away their life for a crime they didn’t commit.”
A chill ran down his spine at the memory of that fateful night. “Tori, please. You promised to drop it. I can’t risk someone else finding out. Not even Nate.”
Tori paled at the mention of her husband. “About that.”
“You didn’t.” Ryder gripped the pickup’s windowsill. “How could you?”
“Because Nate wouldn’t have agreed to you moving into the old bunkhouse unless I told him the truth.” Tori’s amber eyes blazed, almost matching the fiery color of her hair. “We have a solid marriage and I want it to stay that way. But what man wouldn’t question his wife’s motivation for wanting to hire her ex-husband, let alone give him a place to stay? You can trust Nate.”
Like I trusted you to keep my secret. “Go pick up your daughter.”
She didn’t attempt to explain any further as the truck rolled forward. “I’ll see you later.”
“Yep,” he mumbled as she drove off. An uneasiness settled in his gut. Ryder grabbed the shovel he’d left leaning against the four-wheeler he’d ridden out on earlier and jammed it into the ground, breaking open a blister on his palm. His newfound freedom threatened to destroy everything he had managed to protect. Now his families’ fate rested in Nate’s hands. A man he’d only met a few times when Tori visited him in prison. He seemed nice enough on the surface, but could he be trusted?
An hour later, Ryder stood on the back of a flatbed truck, tossing one hay bale after another onto a smaller tractor rack he’d driven into the barn to off-load. At almost seventy pounds apiece, they were more of a workout than anything he’d done in prison. How had Tori managed to run the ranch while Nate was away with only a handful of volunteers?
A child’s laughter echoed in the barn’s entrance as a flash of blonde hair tore past him. “You’ll never catch me,” she sang as she rounded the front of the truck.
“Hey, kid!” Ryder called out as he tossed another bale. He looked around for Tori and Missy. The girl couldn’t be over nine or ten years old. “You can’t play here. It’s too dangerous.”
“Who is that?” the feed driver asked from the rack as he straightened the bales Ryder threw down to him.
“Maybe she’s one of Tori’s daughter’s friends.” They were close to the same age, although Missy had been deaf since birth and unable to speak that well; this girl sang as clear as the wind. After off-loading the top row, Ryder jumped down and worked on the next. “Where did she go? I don’t see her.”
“I think she’s under the bed.” The driver crouched down. “Nope, not there.”
Ryder released the last set of straps and continued to off-load when the girl began singing again. He looked at the driver. “I thought you said she wasn’t under there.” He leaned forward, trying to see over the side without tipping the bales. “Get out before you get hurt.”
“She must have been hiding behind the tires.” He shrugged and called to the girl as Missy ran past the truck. “Is that the deaf kid?”
Ryder halted midlift and set the bale down. “Her name is Missy, and yes, she’s deaf.” He was fairly certain the driver hadn’t meant anything derogatory by his remark, but Ryder was extremely protective of the girl he’d help raise until his arrest. He’d been there the day Missy was born, much to the dismay of Tori’s boyfriend at the time. Good thing Ryder had been because the jerk took off the minute Missy failed the newborn hearing test.
He’d learned sign language alongside Tori and even married her so she wouldn’t struggle as a single parent. He loved them both, but he’d never been in love with Tori. When their marriage finally fell apart, Ryder felt he’d let them both down.
Ryder waved his arms to get Missy’s attention. When she looked his way, he attempted to sign before realizing he still had on his heavy work gloves. He tugged them off and heard the other girl’s laughter again before seeing her head poke out from under the bed between the truck and the rack.
“Kid!” When she didn’t flinch at the sound of his voice, Ryder assumed she was deaf, as well. The side of his body hit the bales as he jumped off the flatbed, causing a three-high stack to lean.
“Watch out!” the driver shouted.
Ryder turned to see the blonde girl’s back to him, oblivious to the danger inches above her head. He wrapped his hand around her arm and yanked her out of the way a split second before the entire stack crashed to the ground, almost crushing her. She screamed, and Ryder worried he’d inadvertently hurt her. He spun her around to face him and signed, “Are you okay?”
Blue eyes wild, she said, “Yes,” without signing in return.
Missy ran between them signing, “We’re sorry. Please don’t tell my mom.”
“I have to,” Ryder signed. “I need to tell her parents, too.”
“No, my mom will get mad at me,” the blonde girl spoke as she signed.
“What’s your name?” Ryder asked.
“Peyton.” She finger-spelled each letter before demonstrating her name sign.
“My name is Ryder. I’ll tell your mom it was an accident, but you have to promise to be more careful.” He turned to Missy. “And you know better.”
“There they are.” Tori saw the fallen bales and rushed to the girls. “Did they do this?”
“No, but Peyton could have been crushed,” Ryder said.
Tori signed wildly to her daughter. “How many times have I told you not to play near the outbuildings or the animals if me or Nate aren’t around?” She turned to Ryder without waiting for Missy to respond. “What happened?”
The driver groaned as he climbed onto the truck bed and began to off-load the hay alone. Ryder had too much work to do for a lengthy blow-by-blow. “I’ll let Missy and Peyton tell you and I’ll fill you in on any missing details when I’m done here.” He watched them walk away and thought about how lucky Peyton had been as he adjusted his back-support belt and grabbed the first fallen bale, forgetting his hands were bare. The sharpness of the baling wire bit into his blistered palms as he swore under his breath. He yanked his gloves from his back pocket and tugged them on as the truck driver laughed at him. “What’s so funny?”
“Are you sure you’re cut out for this? Working on a ranch is tough.”
“I grew up on one, thank you.” Ryder spat, annoyed at the insinuation he was too soft for the job. “I’ve just been away from it for a while. Give me time.” He was a patient man and prison had strengthened his determination. Nothing would stop him from regaining his life and earning his family’s forgiveness.
Nothing.
Chelsea Logan enjoyed her evening drives to the horse sanctuary to pick up her daughter, Peyton. Seeing the wild mustangs run across the lush green pastures as she turned onto the ranch road was the stress relief she needed after a drama-filled day in family court. While most of her clients’ time spent before a judge set the steadiest of nerves alight, today had been particularly rough. Watching a parent lose custody because they couldn’t earn enough to support their child rankled her to the core. Especially when the ex-spouse had erected one roadblock after another. But, those injustices would make her fight twice as hard when she appealed the ruling.
A rescued burro brayed near the adoption center as she parked her Chevy Impala in front of the corral fence. She stepped out of the car and inhaled the scent of fresh-cut hay. It was only the third week of September, but snow already dappled the majestic Swan Range in the distance. She and Peyton had moved to Saddle Ridge a year ago from the bustling metropolis of Helena and she still hadn’t found the time to explore the area.
She reached into her car for her bag when a pair of nice-fitting Wranglers and a Stetson caught her attention through the window. “Oh, that’s definitely not Nate,” she murmured as she watched the man saunter toward the barn. She stood for a better view and sucked in a breath as he turned toward her. Between his chiseled jawline and broad chest, she didn’t know where to look first. Instead, she settled on his belt buckle, which was a mistake when he followed where her eyes landed. The wave of heat warmed her cheeks as a slow, easy smile spread across his face. Have mercy.
“Mama!” Peyton ran across the yard and hugged her tight. Instantly, she knew her daughter had done something wrong since her normal greeting consisted of a shrug and sometimes a wave if Chelsea was lucky.
Chelsea tried to set Peyton at arm’s length, but her daughter refused to let go. A tactic she had learned after losing her hearing. In her daughter’s mind, she couldn’t get in trouble if Chelsea was unable to sign to her. Before she could pry Peyton’s fingers from her back and find out what had happened, the man had closed the distance between them.
“Good evening.” He touched the brim of his hat in greeting. “I’m Ryder. You must be Peyton’s mom.”
He was even more attractive up close. Blue eyes the color of a glacier pool coupled with a hint of sandy blond hair gave him a James Dean vibe that made her toes curl inside her high-heeled sling-backs.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ryder. I’m Chelsea. I’d shake your hand, but I don’t think my daughter will let me.” Thank God for small favors. She shook hands all day with people, yet she suspected Ryder’s touch would leave her wanting more. Maybe it was time to download a dating app because drooling over her friend’s ranch hand could only lead to trouble. “Are you new here?” Peyton lifted her head to look at Chelsea, most likely sensing the reverberations from her voice. When she saw Ryder, her eyes widened. Uh-oh. Peyton had definitely done something wrong.
“I started a few days ago, but I’ve known Tori for a lifetime and then some. I’ve mostly been working on the other side of the ranch. I met your daughter for the first time this afternoon.” He knelt on one knee beside Peyton and signed as he spoke. “I need to explain to your mother what happened. Don’t worry, it will be okay.”
Chelsea groaned and freed herself from Peyton’s stronghold, allowing her to use her hands. “What did she do?”
“Missy and Peyton were playing near the barn while I was off-loading hay from a flatbed. A stack of bales fell off the truck and almost hit her. She didn’t get hurt, but it gave her a good scare.”
Chelsea forced the fear that grew deep within her to remain at bay. Ever since Peyton had gone deaf three years ago because she’d contracted osteomyelitis after surgery for a broken leg, Chelsea couldn’t stress enough how important it was to always be aware of her surroundings.
“What did I tell you when we first came here?” she asked Peyton.
“Not to wander around the ranch.”
Chelsea blew out a breath in frustration. “You need to sign when you speak. It’s the only way you’ll improve.” The teachers had already cautioned her that Peyton’s lazy signing would become a hindrance as she got older.
An eye roll was Peyton’s only response.
“Okay, that’s not helping the situation. We’ll discuss this later.” She returned her attention to Ryder and continued to sign. “I appreciate you telling me what happened. I apologize, and I’ll pay for any damage.”
Ryder rose, standing close enough for her to touch him, but not nearly as close as she would like. Good Lord, it’s been too long since I’ve been on a date.
“There wasn’t any. And it was an accident. Right, kiddo?” He winked at Peyton. “Tori told me the feed deliveries usually come in the morning, so this was probably the first time your daughter’s been here for it. It was an honest mistake.”
“I appreciate your understanding.” She wrapped an arm around Peyton’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure. I hope to see you soon.” He tipped his hat briefly before walking away.
Chelsea averted her eyes from the magnificent view of him leaving and returned her attention to Peyton. “I’m glad you’re all right, but you need to be more careful. I can’t watch you twenty-four hours a day.”
The corners of Peyton’s mouth turned slightly upward. She was doing her best not to smile and Chelsea didn’t find humor in the situation. Being a single parent was hard enough—raising a child who was still adjusting to being deaf and learning to communicate all over again was even harder.
“Chelsea.” Tori ran down the walkway toward them. “I’m assuming Ryder filled you in on what happened. I’m so sorry. The phone rang and when I went to answer it, they took off. I figured they were in the stables and headed down there when I heard Ryder trying to warn Peyton. I should have told him there was another deaf child around.”
“I understand.” Chelsea’s concern began to subside. “I don’t expect you to have eyes on them nonstop. They’re kids, and they want to play. They know better though. This was on them.” She signed to Peyton, “Let’s get your things and head home.”
Riding in a car with Peyton always proved challenging. Her daughter could chatter away in the back seat, but Chelsea couldn’t respond...at least not fully. Ryder was proficient in signing and she wondered if he had learned for Missy’s benefit. She wanted to drill Tori about him, beginning with is he single followed by doesn’t your husband mind?
“Missy said Ryder and her mom used to be married.”
That got Chelsea’s attention. “Really? Wow.” Chelsea signed with her right hand.
“He just got out of jail, so Mrs. James gave him a job.”
Chelsea braked hard, twenty feet before the stop sign. She twisted in her seat to face Peyton. “What do you mean he just got out of jail?”
“Missy said he killed his dad and has been away for a long time.”
The sound of a car horn behind them startled Chelsea. She had a million more questions she wanted to ask her daughter, but they’d have to wait until they got home.
Forget that! She wasn’t about to wait for an explanation. She pulled over, allowing the other car to pass as she pressed the phone button on her steering wheel. “Call Tori.”
“Calling Pizza.”
Crap! Chelsea disconnected the call. She pushed the button again as Peyton continued to tell her about her day. “Call Tori.”
“Calling Mom.” Oh, come on! She ended the call, waved her hand to get Peyton’s attention and brought a finger to her lips, signaling for her to be quiet.
“Third time’s the charm.” She tried again. “Call Tori.”
“Calling Tori.”
Chelsea inhaled deep, trying to calm down as she waited for Tori to answer. How could she allow a man like that near Peyton or even her own daughter?
“Hey, Chelsea.” Tori’s voice boomed through the car speakers.
“Peyton just told me something about Ryder and I need to know if it’s true. Was he just released from prison for killing his father?”
“Yes, but—”
“But nothing.” How dare she have the nerve to make excuses! “I realize you can hire whoever you want, but you had an obligation to tell me.”
Tori paused before responding, leaving Chelsea to wonder if she’d hung up on her. “Hello?”
“I’m here.” Tori sighed. “You’re right. I should have. But Ryder Slade isn’t who everyone makes him out to be.”
“Ryder Slade? How do I know that name?” Slade. “Is he related to Harlan Slade, one of the deputy sheriffs in town?”
“They’re brothers.”
In the rearview mirror, Chelsea watched Peyton touch the speaker next to her head and detect the sound vibrations were from a phone conversation and not music. “Who are you talking to?”
Chelsea shook her head and continued her conversation with Tori. “Peyton said Ryder killed their father.”
“Accidentally.”
“I don’t care if it was an accident or not.” Tori’s casualness began to irk her further. “How long has he been in prison?”
“Five and a half years.”
“Oh, good Lord. And let me guess, he’s out on parole.”
“Yes. He needed a job and a place to live—”
“He’s living with you?” How much worse could this get? “Your husband’s okay with this?”
“I’m sorry.” Tori’s tone thickened with sarcasm. “That’s none of your business. I apologized for not telling you about Ryder. And I should have informed you before he arrived, but as for my relationship with him or my husband, that’s off-limits.”
“Fine, but Peyton’s not allowed over there again.” Chelsea jabbed the steering wheel’s phone button, ending their conversation.
Fifteen minutes later, she pulled into their driveway and parked, almost forgetting to unfasten her seat belt as she got out. How dare Tori allow an ex-convict near her nine-year-old daughter. She shoved her key in the front door so hard, she was surprised when it didn’t snap in half. Peyton grabbed the mail from the box before following her into the house. Not bothering to even take off her jacket, Chelsea dropped her briefcase and bag on the floor and beelined for her desk on the other side of their small craftsman-style living room.
Answers. She needed answers.
She flipped open her laptop and fumbled for the power button. Just great. Now she had to tell her daughter she couldn’t go to Missy’s anymore. She hated to leave her in the after-school program and dreaded the fallout. Peyton was crazy about the sanctuary’s rescued horses and donkeys. They fed her dream to become an equine vet one day. She started talking about them at breakfast and didn’t stop until her head hit the pillow at night. Hearing loss wouldn’t hold her child back from reaching for the stars. Now Chelsea had to be the bad guy and take away the thing her daughter loved most.
They hadn’t had these problems when they’d lived in Helena. Her parents had watched Peyton every day after school, and most nights they’d had dinner over there too. It had been the perfect arrangement until the deaf school closed. Without another school nearby, Chelsea had been forced to move. When a law firm in Saddle Ridge near the highest-rated deaf school in the state made her a lucrative offer, she jumped on it. The four-hundred-mile move away from family and the only place they’d ever lived had been tough on Peyton. It took a while for the two of them to adjust, but after renting an apartment for a few months, they’d finally found a home and settled into a solid routine...until today.
“Mama? Are you mad at me?”
She closed her eyes and gripped the edge of the desk. Peyton was too young to understand Chelsea’s anger and fear. She turned to her and signed, “No, sweetheart. I’m not mad at you. I love you.” Chelsea needed a minute alone to think. “Do you want to help me make dinner tonight?”
“Can we have homemade pizza?” Peyton signed, restoring her faith that her daughter had paid attention to their earlier conversation.
“The dough takes a long time to rise. Do you really want to wait that long?”
“I had a snack at Missy’s house. Please, Mama. We haven’t made it in months.”
“Okay, you’re in charge of the menu tonight. Go find the recipe and get all the ingredients ready. I’ll be in to help you in a few minutes.”
Peyton spun around and skipped out of the room, giving Chelsea a chance to do a little research on Ryder Slade.
Within seconds, the screen filled with hundreds of search results. Numerous articles detailed the events that had occurred the night of his father’s death. Ryder and Tori’s marriage had just ended, and he had drowned his sorrows at a bar. Tori picked him up and drove him home, where an argument ensued with his father, resulting in Ryder getting behind the wheel of a truck and running him over. Frank Slade had been pronounced dead at the scene. Ryder confessed to involuntary manslaughter and had been sentenced to ten years in prison. He had just become eligible for parole last month.
Chelsea scanned article after article, the most recent from the morning of his release last week. Her hands shook as she logged on to the county website and entered his name. Two pages’ worth of charges from his late teens and early twenties filled the screen. Nothing serious. Mostly disorderly conduct, speeding and trespassing. But it was enough to show a pattern of bad behavior.
Regardless, he had killed a man, spent time in prison and there was no way her daughter was going anywhere near Ryder Slade ever again.
