A Ranch for His Family. Hope Navarre

place anyway. I’ve borrowed as much as I can against it. If we spruce the place up and get top dollar for it, we can pay off the mortgage and afford the special schooling Chance will need.”

      “That will take a lot of sprucing, Mom.”

      “We’ll have to hire some help, but it can be done. I know how much you want to become a nurse practitioner. This might make that possible, or at least not as difficult. If the place brings what it is worth, you can go to school and I can have a comfortable retirement.”

      Robyn reached to grip her mother’s hand. “You deserve that. I understand, honest I do. Only, can’t I feel a little sad that my childhood home is going up for sale?”

      “Yes, of course you can. Just don’t start crying. If you do, I’ll never be able to go through with it.”

      “I won’t cry in front of you. I promise.”

      Her mother squeezed Robyn’s hand. “Good. I’ll be back in half an hour.”

      “Are you sure you don’t want me to come in with you?”

      Martha stepped out of the truck. “I need to do this alone. I only hope your father would understand.”

      “Dad always put the family first, Mom. He’d understand. I’m sure of it. He would say it’s just a big piece of dirt. The people we love are what’s important.”

      “You’re right—bless you for that.” Martha closed the truck door, smoothed the front of her navy blue skirt and squared her shoulders. Then she crossed the street and walked into the Flint Hills Real Estate office with her head up.

      Robyn watched with a sinking heart as her mother entered the building. She had hoped the ranch would pass into the hands of her children one day. So much for another girlhood dream. They seemed to have all fallen by the wayside.

      She pushed her short dark curls off her forehead as a trickle of sweat slipped down her temple in the rising, late-June heat. The trouble with letting go of the dreams she’d once cherished was finding something to replace them.

      A white sedan pulled up to the curb two spaces down from her truck in front of the drugstore. She recognized Ellie Bryant’s car and watched Neal swing his long legs out of the passenger side. Fighting down the compulsion to rush over and help him, she studied him closely.

      Weeks had passed since the accident, but he still moved stiffly. His mother came around beside him. He pointedly ignored her offered hand. Robyn was glad she hadn’t jumped out to help.

      As he stood beside the car, she saw he was still pale beneath his tan, but his color was better than the last time she’d seen him. The bandages were gone, and she got her first look at the scar he would bear for the rest of his life. A crooked red line ran up from the center of his left cheek and disappeared beneath the black eye patch he wore.

      She wanted to feel pity, but she couldn’t deny the truth. It wasn’t pity that sent her pulse racing. It was the sweet rush of desire he always triggered in her.

      As the familiar longing swept over her, she closed her eyes to fight it. She wouldn’t fall for him again. She had more pride than that. He didn’t love her. He’d proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt five years ago.

      When she had a grip on her emotions, she opened her eyes and saw a pair of teenage girls walking past the front of her truck. Their gazes were pinned on Neal and looks of admiration sprang onto their young faces. Their walks slowed and turned into prowling saunters.

      He tipped his hat as they strolled past him, but something struck Robyn as odd about his move. She’d seen him do that a thousand times. What was different this time?

      Then she knew. He’d used his left hand to touch the brim of his hat. Was he trying to cover the scarred side of his face?

      A quick pang of compassion pushed a lump into her throat. His appearance had been drastically altered. It would be hard for anyone, but it had to be especially hard for someone as proud as Neal was.

      He had always been a handsome man. Women had flocked around him. He was above-average height and lean, with a cowboy’s natural swagger. He wore his brown hair slightly long, and it curled at his shirt collar. She’d always thought his hazel eyes were his best feature, but it was his impish sense of humor she had adored.

      She watched the two girls glance back at him before they turned the corner. Neal might not realize it, but the eye patch made him look dangerous and exotic. He would be the object of some teenage fantasies for many nights to come judging by the girls’ reactions. Who could blame them? He was a sexy hunk.

      He started to step up on the curb, but he didn’t step high enough and stumbled. He regained his balance quickly, but he pressed his arm to his side. Had he hurt himself?

      His mother rushed around the car to help as he leaned against the hood, but he shook her off. Robyn found herself out of the truck and standing beside him before she realized what she was doing. “Are you okay?”

      His head snapped up at the sound of her voice, and his lips pressed into a tight line. “Sure. One too many beers, I guess.”

      She frowned as she studied his face. “Don’t be a smart aleck. You’re having trouble judging distance because of your altered depth perception.”

      “They tell me I’ll get used to it.”

      “Did you hurt your ribs?” his mother asked.

      “I jarred them, that’s all. I’m fine. Go and do your shopping, Mom. I don’t need a babysitter.”

      Surprised by the sharp sarcasm in his voice, Robyn glanced at his mother. A look of hurt flashed across Ellie’s face, but it disappeared quickly as she pasted a smile on. She stepped away from him and let her arms fall to her sides.

      “Okay. I won’t be long.” Turning away, she hurried into the drugstore. The bell over the door clanged as it closed behind her.

      “I see your manners haven’t improved,” Robyn snapped.

      He frowned at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

      “Your mother is only trying to help.”

      “I see you haven’t changed, either,” he drawled, leaning against the car hood.

      She refused to rise to his bait and kept her mouth shut. She’d said too much already.

      He looked her up and down. “You still butt into other people’s business. I didn’t like you trying to tell me what to do years ago, and I don’t like it now.”

      What on earth had possessed her to think he needed her help? Robyn didn’t know if she was more furious with him or with herself. “Someone needs to tell you what to do, you slow-witted stubborn oaf. You were plain mean to your mother.”

      He scowled at her but didn’t reply.

      Maybe it was none of her business, but he was going to get an earful. His mother didn’t deserve that kind of treatment. “Your mother watched helplessly as they loaded you on a chopper and then drove for two hundred miles, praying you would still be alive when she got to the hospital. While they were putting you back together, Humpty Dumpty, she paced the waiting room for hours, worried sick with fear. When she finally heard you would live, they told her you might have brain damage. I could barely get her to leave your bedside. She didn’t sleep for two nights straight.”

      Robyn poked a finger into the top button of his shirt. “So cut her a little slack if she’s overprotective, and be kind to her. She’s been through a lot.”

      Robyn wouldn’t tell him all those fears and sleepless nights were hers, as well. He wouldn’t care.

      His face could have been carved from granite. “Are you finished?”

      She folded her arms across her chest and clamped her jaw closed on all the other things she wanted to shout at him. “Yes.”

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