Chapter Five
Peyton walked through the house like a machine. Dusting, vacuuming, wiping down counters as her mind circled through the past twelve hours.
Ryder was back.
They had kissed.
He knew.
He would meet Melanie on Friday.
She had no doubt that he would be stalking her from the minute the sun came up on Friday, demanding an introduction the minute their daughter’s feet touched ranch dirt. Should she go to the camp and talk to Melanie first to prepare her? But then again, what could she say? The one and only conversation between them over her father had been brief, and Melanie had never brought it up again.
Plus, Shelby and Mitch were already on their way to get her. They would spend a few days in a cabin near the camp and bring her home on Friday. It wouldn’t do any good for Peyton to make the trip, too. There was still the possibility that Shelby or Mitch would spill the beans to Mel. They knew he was home, after all she’d spoken to Shelby on the phone and she’d sent Ryder to check on her, but that didn’t mean they would spring it on Melanie. While very active in their granddaughter’s life, they had taken great pains to never step on Peyton’s toes. She felt confident that would extend to this.
But come Friday there would be one hell of a family reunion.
Peyton walked to Mel’s room and stared at the bed. It was still rumpled from Mel’s last night there, her daughter constantly in motion even in her sleep. She missed her. On Saturdays they would normally be in town at the Wagon Train eating chocolate chip pancakes and planning their day.
She could certainly use some chocolate right about now and a healthy dose of coffee, but that would mean town, and town meant gossips, namely in the form of her dear but deadly grandmother, Polly. No. Better to avoid the whispers and pointed looks. She would finish up her top to bottom fall cleaning and then head back to the ranch. It was her responsibility for the next few days and surely she could dodge Ryder and anyone else looking to chat there.
Mel was usually responsible for stripping her bed and washing her own clothes and sheets, but in the rush of leaving for camp, it was one of the many chores overlooked. Peyton circled the bed and reached under the mattress to loosen the fitted sheet. Her fingers brushed something metal. She yanked the sheet off and lifted the mattress. There, smiling up at her, was a picture of Ryder.
Peyton dropped the mattress and sat on the floor. Her cheeks burned, and she pressed a palm to her lips to hold in the sob. Mel had a picture of Ryder. How? Where? She couldn’t even form complete questions. Why hadn’t Mel talked to her about him? Did her daughter think she wouldn’t want to? Had she put out some vibe that said the topic was off-limits?
The picture was of Ryder at graduation. Mel must have taken it from Shelby and Mitch’s. Or maybe Mel, in her typical no-holds-barred fashion, had asked them for it. She wondered if Mel had also asked her grandparents about Ryder. And if she had, why wouldn’t Shelby have told Peyton?
She rested her head on her knees. She’d thought everything was perfect, but maybe it had just seemed that way. Because apparently her daughter had felt the need to hide her father’s picture from Peyton. What did that say about her? About their relationship? Had she shortchanged Mel?
Upheaval made Peyton twitch. She needed order and nothing about Ryder and his picture or his return screamed order. So she needed to make it so. Control back in her hands. She’d controlled every aspect of her life since the second line appeared on the test stick. She just needed to relax, evaluate, and plan.
She pushed up off the floor and finished stripping the bed. She left the picture where it was. Throwing the linens into the washer, she put some water on to boil. Banging on her front door sounded, and Peyton peeped through the archway to see Polly’s jeep parked on the street.
A quick glance at the clock on the wall had her laughing. It only took her two hours. She crossed the living room and opened the door for her grandmother. No words exchanged as Polly followed her back into the kitchen. She took a seat while Peyton added more water to the kettle and set two mugs on the table. Grabbing cream from the fridge, she placed it in the center, sat down, and waited.
Polly fidgeted with her gloves and scarf, which lay side by side on the table. Her coat hung on the back of the chair. The totally not in control of anything side of Peyton wanted to tell her grandmother to spit it out. Say her piece and then leave, so Peyton could wallow a little bit longer. But that wouldn’t help her get things back in control, so she waited the older woman out.
“Have you seen him?”
Peyton clasped her hands and nodded.
“Does he know?”
Another nod.
“So?”
Peyton met Polly’s gaze and years of emotion tumbled through her veins, spilling over in tears and sobs. This time she couldn’t blame the alcohol. This was all organically her. This was years of questions and doubts and anger and concern she’d neatly piled on top of one another in the far reaches of her brain and her heart. Stripped bare in front of the only person she could strip in front of. Warm hands covered hers and squeezed. The kettle whistled, and Polly got up. A moment later a steaming cup of tea was placed between Peyton’s trembling fingers.
Silence ensued as they sipped their tea. The only sound was the occasional gasp as Peyton got herself back under control.
“Feel better?”
Peyton managed a small smile. The truth was she did. In all these years, she’d never lost it. Never given over to the emotions. Namely because Mel was with her and it wouldn’t have served any purpose. She didn’t want to lose control. Once it was gone, it would be hell to get it back. As evidenced by today.
“I’d say that was a long time coming.” Polly raised a silver eyebrow and Peyton smothered a laugh. There were two people in the world who might understand what Peyton had gone through. But only one would be bold enough to discuss it to her face in a blunt, matter-of-fact way.
“Yes. It was. And now it’s gone. Time moves on.”
“How long’s he here for?”
Peyton ran her finger down the handle of her mug. “We, um, didn’t get around to questions like that.” She looked up. “But I imagine it won’t be long. It took him ten years to come back. I highly doubt he has a hankering to put down roots. I mean, he fled to Alaska for God’s sake. Doesn’t sound like this is a permanent homecoming.”
“And what if it is?”
Leave it to Polly to nail her biggest fear right on the damn head.
…
That evening the wind whinnied through the aspens as Peyton wrestled with the rocker. It was the second to last one left on the front porch of the main lodge and she prayed she would get them both into the lobby before they became flying missiles. As she paused to pull a piece of hair from her eyes, she saw the lake in the distance whipped up in a frenzy, whitecaps rising and falling as the early fall storm inched closer and closer to Sky Lake.
Setting the double oak doors open, she maneuvered the chair over the threshold and placed it alongside the others. Storms this late tended to be vicious, throwing hail, thunder, and lightning to the ground. She just prayed nothing major would happen while she was on watch. Her job normally involved marketing and PR but once a year she filled in for Shelby and Mitchum. She’d thought it a blessing this year since keeping insanely busy would keep her mind off the fact that Mel was away at camp. But neither she nor the Markses had counted on Ryder.
Peyton glanced at the ominous sky and speedway of leaves outside and snorted. Seemed pretty damn appropriate that a forecast for rain had morphed into a freak mega-storm that prepared to wreak havoc on Sky Lake just as Ryder’s return had done the same damn thing to her ordered life.
Which reminded her—where was he? Surely somewhere on the ranch, although she was beyond grateful he hadn’t contacted her. That could lead to nothing pretty at the moment, with both of them so off-balance and emotions simmering so close to the surface. Besides, what could be said at this point? The past was done. All that was left was how to proceed, and since she didn’t have a plan for that yet, Ryder staying away suited her just fine.
Braving the wind one final time, she grabbed the last rocker from the end of the grand porch and hefted it back toward the entrance. Not surprisingly, the main building was devoid of people at the moment. Late September was beyond slow for Sky Lake. Contracted ranchers had returned home, and the few permanent ones were rushing around the ranch making sure everything was secure and safe. Skeleton staff were handling the inside tasks and the few guests they did have were hopefully settling in and getting ready for dinner.
Shelby and Mitchum should have cleared the storm and made it to their cabin with no problem. She hoped their return trip with Mel on Friday would be smooth, because lord knew it would be a bumpy landing.
Peyton looked back at the lake. Two white cottages peeked out among the trees. Both were booked, and she worried about the sleek aspens as another gust of wind came through, shaking the limbs like rag dolls. Glancing up at the murderous sky, she decided not to tempt fate by driving home to an empty house. Fly Creek lost many a branch and tree during the storms that whipped up both the lake and river. She would just bunk in the old caretaker’s cottage adjacent to the main building. No one used it anymore, since Mitchum and Shelby built their own house on the property, but they kept it ready for use “just in case.”
“Just in case” was the term uttered around Sky Lake in regard to a certain someone. Peyton hadn’t thought she would ever lay eyes on Ryder again, but she knew Shelby and Mitchum, or at least Shelby, had hoped differently. Sad that the woman had waited a decade to see her son only to have to leave the next morning.
They could have postponed, maybe they should have, at least then they could have been a buffer between Ryder and her. But Shelby fussed over Mitchum’s health ever since the heart attack. He needed these stress-free breaks and facing a son who’d walked out on him probably didn’t rank up there as tranquil. Add to that the recent sale of part of Sky Lake that Mitchum still hadn’t forgiven Peyton and Shelby for and it was probably best he was away at the moment. Not that they had been left with much choice in the matter—it was sell the property or possibly lose the whole ranch—but if just the mere mention of the sale rose Mitchum’s heart rate and blood pressure, she could only imagine what the return of the prodigal son was doing.
While the selfish side of her didn’t want Ryder hanging around longer than necessary, for Shelby’s sake and even Mel’s, Peyton hoped he would spend some time in Fly Creek.
Over the years, she’d tried to imagine what it would be like if Mel upped and left at nineteen, breaking all contact. But the pain at just imagining such a scenario brought her to her knees. How Shelby and Mitchum held up all these years she would never know. She, on the other hand, was perfectly fine. Or had been until last night. She’d thought once upon a time that she needed him. But she got over that real quick when the pregnancy test came back positive and she had no alternative.
Setting the rocker down a little more forcefully than necessary, she told herself to stop going down not-so-happy memory lane. He was old business. A blip on her radar. Just because he was here, looking mighty fine, and kissing even better, didn’t mean she needed to rehash everything.
The worst was done.
Ryder was back and now knew about Mel. Not much else needed to be handled between them other than Mel meeting him. And that couldn’t happen until at least Friday night. Until then, she would steer clear, keep busy, and definitely stay away from his tempting, capable lips.
A gust of wind sent the double screen doors slamming against the side of the lodge and Peyton yelped, clutching her throat in surprise. She didn’t have time to laugh, as the sight of a small tree limb sailing across the parking lot had her hurrying to secure the doors. The storm apparently was hell-bent on doing damage whether Peyton wished it to or not.
She walked around the front desk, thinking about the two occupied cottages. They had plenty of empty rooms in the main building. Maybe she should offer to move them for safety reasons. Both were nestled in the woods at the shore of the lake and most of the time they were picturesque, wouldn’t-want-to-be-anywhere-else kind of places. But she would hate for anyone to be hurt. She couldn’t recall anything ever happening like it before, but if she’d learned anything in the last twenty-four hours it was not to bet on a sure thing.
Evaluate and plan. Those were her strengths.
Peyton dialed the first cottage and the call was picked up on the second ring. She explained her concerns and offered to help them into a suite for the night. They declined. She received a similar response from the honeymooning couple in the second cottage. They were positively thrilled with the weather and Peyton had a sneaking suspicion that no amount of anything was getting the two of them outside that cottage anytime soon. Both had assured her they were fine and found the impending doom of a storm well worth whatever trouble it may or may not cause.
As she hung up, the desk manager, Molly, came down the main staircase. “I checked all the empty rooms to make sure windows were secure and shutters locked.”
Peyton smiled. “Thanks. I contacted the cottages offering to move them but both declined.”
They glanced out the front windows as another gust of wind rattled the panes.
“It’s going to be a bad one, isn’t it?”
Peyton nodded. “Are you sure you don’t want to head home?”
Molly smiled. “Nah. My roommate will be there and I’m sure whatever guy she roped in this week. Plus, I’m behind on my class reading, and I have midterms coming up. Just as well that I stay here and study and get paid. You heading home?”
Peyton was intimately familiar with needing both money and quiet. She’d worked her way through school as well, in addition to taking care of Mel full-time. “No. I think I’m going to stay close in case of any problems. With Mel gone and this place my responsibility, it’s probably best to stay. I’ll just crash in the keeper’s cottage.”
“Sounds good. Oh, I meant to tell you someone stopped in earlier asking me to let you know if you needed anything he was at his parents’ and at your disposal.”
Peyton choked and sputtered as her face heated. Clearly, she was missing some pertinent puzzle piece. “I’m sorry, who said that?”
“Shelby’s son. Ryder. Shelby left me a note saying he might be by and sure enough he sauntered his mighty fine self in. He asked if I was in charge and I told him no, and he said to let whoever was know he was on the property and available.”
Ah, the missing piece. “So he didn’t ask for me specifically?”
Molly shook her head. “No. Do you two know each other?” The question was followed by a very pointed look. Molly was young and therefore didn’t quite know the background that existed between mighty fine self and Peyton. Probably better it stayed that way. At least for now. “I knew him back in high school.”
A short answer, given in her matter-of-fact voice, seemed to satisfy Molly. Peyton confirmed that the young woman didn’t need anything else and that she had dinner in the kitchen. Waving goodbye, she let herself through the side door to the breezeway connecting to the cottage.
Wind sent her hair lashing against her temple, leaves tangling around her feet as she searched for the correct key. There was a spare hidden inside the lantern hanging beside the door, but Peyton thumbed through several more keys until she found the correct one. She let herself in, shutting the door behind her, and leaned against the sturdy wood as her mind relished the quiet.
The wind continued to howl but the effect was muted behind the thick logs that made up the four walls of the house. Peyton loved this place. It was quaint and cozy and situated so that the windows to her left took in everything that Sky Lake had to offer. She understood the reasoning for Shelby and Mitchum moving out, but she wondered if they missed the hominess of it. Their house now was three times the size and lacked that certain characteristic that enveloped you when you crossed through the door.
A chill settled on Peyton’s skin and she crossed over to the fireplace. Five minutes later, the beginnings of a fire caught, and she could smell the change in the room. Satisfied she wouldn’t freeze, she moved to the windows. The water, leaves, and limbs formed a dance across the road and pastures. Her phone chimed, and she pulled it out of her pocket to see a text message from Shelby.
At the cabin. Hope everything is well. Wish we could have talked before we left. I didn’t tell him. You should. Hope you’re okay. See ya Friday with our girl. Hugs.
Peyton fired back a quick text and placed her phone on the windowsill. The truth was everything wasn’t okay. For years she’d pretended it was, but the minute she laid eyes again on Ryder Marks, the curtain had fallen. She should hate him. Despise or feel indifferent, at the very least, and yet all she could think was that if his kissing had improved over the past ten years, surely his other skills had as well.
No. She wouldn’t be investigating his new and improved skillset. He was here for a brief amount of time and she would ensure that during that time life for him and Mel was smooth. That was the plan. Guide them to getting to know one another. She and Ryder existed as a team for Mel and nothing else. Falling back under Ryder’s spell wasn’t happening. She couldn’t, or rather didn’t, trust him, and letting him back in would only lead to another broken heart. Straightening her shoulders in resolve, she went to the kitchen and set about finding some dinner.
Her ringtone finally pulled Peyton away from the two lists in front of her. One regarding Sky Lake and any potential repercussions from the storm. The other, ways to break the news to Mel. The first was infinitely longer than the second.
“Hello?”
“Peyton, it’s Dan.”
She collapsed on the couch. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Final check-in. All the animals are free to pasture or secured in their stalls. Everything else has been tied down, nailed down, or brought inside. She’s gonna be a fine one.”
“She? I love how the intense ones always land on the female side with you.”
He laughed. “That’s because men are simple. In and out. Women come in, turn things upside down, and leave us to pick up pieces. Which we’re happy to do because you gals usually make it worth it in some way.”
Peyton laughed, but her thoughts instantly strayed to a man who’d caused more havoc in twenty-four hours than any storm she’d ever been through in Fly Creek.
“So you home safe?”
“No. I’m actually hunkered down in the cottage. I figured it was better to be on site.”
“Really?”
There was an undercurrent in Dan’s question, and Peyton didn’t have to look too closely to figure out what it was.
“I’m fine, Dan.”
He sighed. He was such a good, caring man but typical protector to his toes.
“If you say so. I’m a phone call away. I’ll be in touch.”
“Night, and stay safe. Those horses are smarter than you think, so don’t go risking your pretty limbs for them.”
“Worried about my limbs, are you?”
“Always, dear.”
They both hung up laughing. Peyton snagged the afghan off the back of the couch and snuggled farther into the arm. She loved Dan, as a sister loved a big brother. He’d been a silent supporter for most of her adult life, and Mel loved him to the moon and back. But never had he produced the hurricane force of emotions that one moment in Ryder’s presence brought forth. She closed her eyes, wondering where on the ranch Hurricane Ryder was and what other damage he would be leaving in his wake.
…
Ryder ignored the hail pounding the windows and continued flicking through the photo album on the kitchen island. After his visit to the main lodge and a quick chat with a young woman who looked barely old enough to drive, he’d found himself joining in with the few permanent ranch hands to bunk down animals and open pasture gates. They openly accepted his help, somehow knowing who he was despite him not knowing any of them.
He’d briefly wondered where Dan Rigby was and if he’d filled them in, but time and hard work overtook rambling thoughts. He hadn’t realized how much he missed ranch life, as it was often hard to separate the good parts of Sky Lake from the ugly parts that had sent him packing.
His business partner, Alex, was supposed to arrive tomorrow and then they’d begin unofficially surveying the property. He’d hoped to have at least had it out with his father by then—presenting him with the indisputable proof of his worth—but fate in the form of one Peyton Brooks ensured that even the shortest of conversations with his father would be put off until at least Friday and the official meeting even later. However, his number one priority now was to meet his daughter.
The thought of Melanie was what had him rushing back to his parents’ house and tracking down the photo albums he knew his mother would have. Shelby Marks hadn’t disappointed. He’d been steadily working his way through his daughter’s entire life. Birthday parties, Christmases, Easter egg hunts, all the while vaguely noticing the storm’s increased racket. Every picture brought alternating emotions. Love and pride over the beautiful, spunky girl he’d help create, and pain over being denied an active part of her life. His fingers traced Melanie’s smile.
What did she know about him? And would she be glad to meet him? He’d imagined a lot of things about his homecoming, but a daughter hadn’t been one of them. How could he be a dad when his own father was a horrible example? His muscles tensed and his heart sped up. Ryder forced himself to take deep breaths and vowed then that Melanie would know she was loved and accepted every second of every day. No child of his would ever grow up without knowing they were supported 100 percent.
He’d make up his absence if it was the last thing he did.
A loud crack, followed by a house-rattling vibration, finally tore Ryder away from the mischievous little girl and to the front porch. Rain lashed across, nearly horizontal, and he could see where a tree had been struck and was leaning against another. The other’s trunk was the only thing preventing it from collapsing onto the driveway. He’d take care of it in the morning once the storm passed, but it had him wondering what other problems the storm might be causing across the ranch. He hoped Peyton was home safe.
Maybe he should head back to the main lodge. It was centrally located and he would be better placed in case anything major happened. Worst case, he could crash at his old home and be within reach of the young woman manning the desk. He still didn’t know who was in charge with his parents gone. He would have liked to double-check they had everything under control. He may have left it all those years ago, but Sky Lake was and always would be his home.