Redemption on Rivers Ranch Read online

  Gabriella followed the kids, picking up the discarded sheets as she went and bundling them in her arms. The kids had turned on the lights before they entered a room, so the entire house was lit up like a Christmas tree. She recognized some of the furniture from her visits, but new pieces had been added. All in all, the house felt familiar and Gabriella was optimistic. The kids were laughing and happy. Gabriella might not have everything worked out, but right now things were good. For now, that was enough.

  * * *

  Carson Rivers drove down the solitary road to his ranch and heaved a sigh of relief. He always timed his visits to Sweet Briar so that he didn’t encounter many people, but it was stressful nonetheless. A part of him knew he was being a little sensitive and more than a bit paranoid, but he couldn’t help himself. Being the son of a murderer came with heavy baggage. The fact that the murder had happened over a decade ago and that Carson was the one who’d brought it to light so justice could be done didn’t change things. Karl Rivers had been a powerful man who’d thrown his weight around. A few people had resented and feared him in equal measure, so they took out their anger on Carson, gloating over his unhappiness.

  When Karl had died suddenly last year, Carson’s childhood friend and former neighbor Donovan Cordero had returned to town after a ten-year absence when he’d been presumed dead. He had revealed a horrible truth to Carson. Donovan had witnessed Carson’s father commit murder. Karl had let Donovan live, but only if he left town immediately and never came back. But as soon as Donovan learned of Karl’s death, he returned. It wasn’t long before Donovan renewed his relationship with Raven Reynolds—Carson’s fiancée at the time—who’d borne Donovan’s son in his absence.

  Once Carson had learned the truth, he’d been determined to discover the murdered man’s identity. Somewhere out there, a family was wondering what had happened to their loved one. Carson wouldn’t be able to rest until he gave them closure. So he’d gone to the newly elected county sheriff, who’d opened an investigation. And Carson had hired a private investigator to locate the man’s family. Once they’d been found, Carson had paid to have the remains, which were located after an investigation, shipped to the man’s hometown in Tennessee and paid for the funeral.

  Carson hadn’t tried to hide what he’d discovered from his friends and neighbors. His father had hidden his crimes, and he was the last person Carson wanted to emulate. But he hadn’t expected the backlash. People he hadn’t necessarily counted among his friends, but whom he’d never considered enemies, began talking about him behind his back. Some of the bolder ones had even told him he shouldn’t show his face in town. Carson’s friends had rallied around him, but the words still stung. He couldn’t help but wonder if others felt the same way but just didn’t say anything.

  Thank goodness, his mother had moved to Atlanta to stay with her sister shortly after his father’s funeral. She was a gentle yet proud soul who would never have been able to deal with being ostracized. The gossip would have killed her. She shouldn’t have to deal with this. No woman should.

  Discovering the truth about his father had been a shock, one Carson had only begun to get over. He couldn’t believe the father he’d idolized as a child, the father who’d held Carson in front of him on a horse as a toddler and who’d taught Carson everything he knew about ranching, had taken another man’s life. It was impossible to reconcile the two sides of his father. Losing Raven had been another staggering blow, knocking him off his center.

  Before all of this came to light, Carson had been a successful horse trainer. He’d worked with previously abused animals as well as teaching horses to accept the saddle. He’d branched out and begun giving riding lessons to local kids. He’d enjoyed it as much as they had and business had begun to take off. But then a whisper campaign had started. Rather than wait for his students to back out, he’d closed the school. Besides, dealing with the fallout from his father’s actions and running the family’s cattle ranch had left him little time for anything else.

  Luckily a forensic audit revealed that the business operations were 100 percent legal and aboveboard, so Carson had been able to keep running it with a clear conscience. Which was good, considering the ranch employed over two dozen people, many of whom supported families.

  Lately he’d been toying with the idea of restarting his riding school, but something held him back. Would people really trust him to teach their kids? His reputation had been impeccable before, but being the son of a killer scuffed up the shine. At least to hear some people tell it.

  Did he need the pain and aggravation? He had plenty to keep him busy.

  He passed his neighbor’s house and automatically glanced at it. He’d promised Mrs. Johnson that he’d keep an eye on it when she moved to Willow Creek. She’d been considering putting it on the market but hadn’t made up her mind yet. She said she liked knowing the house was there in case she got tired of her new lifestyle. It wasn’t a problem for him. Mowing her lawn was easy enough and oddly soothing. She only had a handful of acres and he had a riding mower, so it didn’t take much time.

  He slowed. Lights were blazing in the house. No one was supposed to be there.

  Carson considered calling the sheriff but decided against it. Only the world’s worst criminal would turn on every light in the house and hope nobody noticed. He’d assess the situation and go from there.

  Pulling into the driveway, he noticed an SUV with out-of-state license plates. He peered inside. Empty. Mrs. Johnson had given him a key to the house, so he headed up onto the porch, opened the door and stepped inside.

  Apparently whoever was inside had made themselves at home. They’d uncovered the furniture and dropped suitcases and backpacks by the stairs leading to the upstairs bedrooms. Loud music was blaring from the back of the house. Someone was singing a popular song at the top of her lungs. The fact that she was nowhere in the vicinity of the right key didn’t stop her from singing with gusto. Her attempt to hit a high note pierced his ears and propelled him forward if only to save his hearing.

  A child laughed.

  What in the world was going on here?

  Mrs. Johnson would have told him if she’d sold or rented the house. She hadn’t mentioned it when they’d spoken a couple of weeks ago. And the gossips of Sweet Briar would have said something. He might not hang out in town any longer, but his employees did. One of them would have told him if they’d heard anything about his closest neighbor.

  Carson stepped into the kitchen. A woman and girl of about seven or eight were dancing around the old Formica table, trying to convince a boy who looked about ten to join them. The boy was leaning against the sink, his arms folded over his chest. Clearly he wasn’t interested in participating in the revelry.

  The woman laughed and the sound struck a chord inside Carson. Something about the sound stirred a distant memory inside him, awakening a long-forgotten feeling. He silenced the echo, focusing on the matter at hand.

  The intruders were so wrapped up in each other that they hadn’t noticed him yet. He twisted the knob on Mrs. Johnson’s ancient radio, silencing the music, and then cleared his throat.

  The woman spun around, then pushed herself in front of the girl, whose eyes were wide with shock. The boy looked around as if searching for a weapon to use to protect the others. Luckily there wasn’t anything available for him to grab.

  “Who are you and what are you doing here?” the woman asked.

  The boy pulled a phone from his pocket and began punching in numbers. No doubt he was getting ready to call the police. Although by rights Carson should be the one asking questions, he chose to de-escalate the situation.

  “I’m the owner’s neighbor. Now who are you?”

  The woman stepped closer, sizing him up. She peered at him, studying his face for so long that she could have been searching for an answer to life’s mysteries. He refused to flinch under her intense scrutiny. After an unco
mfortably long moment, she smiled. “Carson?”

  He nodded and looked at her more carefully. The coffee-colored eyes danced with mischief. It couldn’t be. Fifteen years had passed since his old friend had visited. But looking closer at her astonishingly beautiful face with clear light brown skin, high cheekbones and full lips, he knew it was her. “Gabriella?”

  The woman laughed and launched herself at him, squeezing him in a tight hug. “Oh, my goodness. It has been years.”

  “Yes, it has.” He and his parents had been invited to her wedding some years ago, but they hadn’t been able to attend. Carson hugged her briefly, then stepped back and forced himself to ignore the way his body reacted to the contact. It had been a long time since he’d held a woman in his arms. More than a year since he and Raven had ended their engagement. Last November and December, he’d had a brief entanglement with a woman who’d spent a few weeks in Sweet Briar. They’d enjoyed themselves, but neither of them had expected it to be any more than it turned out to be. And when she’d left town, it ended.

  Holding Gabriella that brief moment had felt like sticking his finger into a live electric socket. And when they ended the hug, his blood was still humming from the aftereffects. He did his best to smother the response. He might be the son of a killer, but he had never hit on married women, no matter how beautiful they were or how good they smelled. He wouldn’t start with his childhood friend.

  “You know him?” the boy asked, his hand hovering over the phone as if unsure whether or not to call for help.

  “Yes.” Gabriella beamed at Carson again, making his heart lurch before she turned to the boy who he assumed was her son. “We were best friends when I was your age. We hung out all day every day for many summers. He lives on the ranch right across the road.”

  The boy looked from Carson to Gabriella. Was he trying to imagine them being kids his own age, or was he seeing something more? That was ridiculous. There was nothing more. And that strange tingling sensation that shot through Carson every time Gabriella touched him? That had to be the result of his long drought.

  “So, what are you doing here?” Carson asked the question he’d wanted answered since he’d entered the house. Now suspicion was replaced by curiosity.

  She turned to her kids before answering. “Why don’t the two of you go choose your rooms? Then we can make up the beds.”

  “Aren’t you going to introduce me, Mommy?” the little girl asked, looking all kinds of offended.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie.” Gabriella held out her hand. When the little girl reached her, Gabriella dropped an affectionate arm around her shoulder and pulled the child close to her side. “This is my daughter, Sophia. And as you might have guessed, that is my son, Justin. This is Mr. Rivers.”

  Justin crossed the room and held out his hand, looking quite serious and mature. “It’s very nice to meet you, sir.”

  Carson shook the boy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, too. And no need to call me sir. Just call me Carson.”

  The kids glanced at Gabriella for permission, which she gave with a slight nod. Apparently calling an adult by his first name was not something they ordinarily did.

  “Go on upstairs,” Gabriella repeated.

  “Okay,” Justin said as the kids raced from the room.

  Gabriella didn’t speak again until the sounds of the kids pounding up the stairs receded. Then she turned to him, and the smile that had lit her face faded. Her shoulders slumped, and the carefree air she’d had when the kids were present vanished. “Do you want to sit down?”

  He shook his head. This wasn’t a social visit and he wasn’t planning on staying long. It had been a tiring day, and he was ready to get home, microwave a frozen meal and vegetate in front of the TV for a couple hours of mindless entertainment. Besides, it would be too easy to fall into the habit of spending time with her. And since as far as he knew she wasn’t free, that would be a worse idea than getting involved with Raven had been. “What are you doing here, Gabriella?”

  She inhaled and then blew out the breath. “I’m divorced. My ex-husband remarried and his new wife had a baby a few months ago. Now Reggie doesn’t have time for Sophia and Justin. He cast them aside like... I don’t know like what. They’re beginning to feel the sting of his rejection. School is out for the summer so I thought a change of scenery might do us all some good. I loved spending time here when I was a kid and thought they might like it, too. And they won’t have to listen to another one of their father’s lame excuses about why he can’t pick them up for their visit. If he even bothered to call at all.”

  Although she spoke in a matter-of-fact manner, he heard the pain in her voice. Maybe the kids weren’t the only ones suffering from being replaced. Perhaps she hadn’t wanted her marriage to end. Maybe Reggie’s new wife and child were too much for Gabriella to bear.

  Carson sympathized. But if that was the case, after the way his body had responded to a simple hug, he’d be wise to avoid her. He’d already traveled down that road with a woman who was in love with another man. There was no winning the heart of a woman if it wasn’t available. He’d learned that lesson with Raven. Not that Gabriella had even hinted at any such thing. It was just good to plan in advance to avoid confusion in the future.

  He glanced up. Gabriella was staring at him expectantly while awaiting his reply. “That makes sense. I’m surprised your aunt didn’t mention your visit to me.”

  “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. She was already on her vacation when I called her. Lucky for me, she still keeps the key to this place on her key chain so she sent it to me.”

  That explained it. Now that he knew that Gabriella had a right to be in the house, there was no reason for him to remain. They could discuss whether she wanted him to continue caring for the lawn another time. But his feet didn’t move toward the door. Instead, he stood there staring at her, mesmerized by her beauty.

  Time had been good to her. She’d been fifteen the last time he’d seen her. Though she’d shown promise of the beauty she had become, she’d been what his mother had referred to as a late bloomer. The tall willowy body she now possessed had been skin and bones back then. Since he hadn’t been interested in her romantically, her looks hadn’t mattered to him. It was only when the other boys pointed out her shortcomings that he’d realized others had viewed her as lacking. But then, he’d been a late bloomer himself and a target for bullies. If it hadn’t been for Donovan Cordero’s protection and Carson’s father’s wealth and power, life for Carson would have been torture.

  He turned his thoughts back to the present. He was still standing in Mrs. Johnson—and now Gabriella’s—kitchen.

  “Okay,” he said abruptly. “I’ll get out of your hair so you and the kids can get settled.”

  Gabriella frowned and he realized he could have been more gracious. She had come a long way. If he read the situation right, for all intents and purposes, she and her kids were all alone. If he appeared unfriendly, she might not call on him if she needed help.

  He pulled out his cell phone. “Let’s exchange numbers. That way if you need anything you can give me a call.”

  She gave him a relieved smile and he knew he’d done the right thing. “Thanks.”

  Once he’d entered her phone number into his contacts and called her phone so she’d have his number too, he headed for the front door. She walked beside him.

  “I’m glad to know that my best summertime friend is still around. Things will definitely be better now,” Gabriella said as she opened the door for him.

  He stepped onto the porch and quickly made his way to his pickup. If she thought having him around would make her life better, she was sadly mistaken. As the son of a murderer, he was the town pariah and the last person she and her kids needed in their lives.

  Chapter Two

  “Can we go outside for a little while?” Sophia used her best smile to try t
o wheedle a yes from Gabriella. Justin stood behind his sister, holding his breath, waiting for the answer.

  Gabriella sighed. There was so much to do and they’d barely made a dent. After Carson had left last night, she and the kids had put clean linen on their beds. This was a five-bedroom house so there had been no arguing over rooms. Justin had wanted the room in the back, overlooking the huge yard. The room wasn’t particularly big, in fact it was only a third the size of the room he had back home, but he liked the slanted ceiling and the hidden staircase that led directly to the kitchen. Sophia had chosen a sun-drenched room at the front of the house. She’d been enchanted by the padded window seat with storage beneath where she could keep her puzzles, books and dolls.

  Although Aunt Mildred had told Gabriella to feel free to use the master bedroom, she’d chosen the room she’d used as a child. There was something comforting about sleeping in the same bed that she’d slept in when her life had been carefree. She knew she couldn’t go back to that time, but she hoped the familiar surroundings would provide her with the peaceful slumber that had eluded her ever since Reggie had told her he no longer wanted to be married to her. And they had. For the first time in nearly two years, she’d slept without tossing or turning.

  “Are your rooms clean?” The floors needed to be mopped and the area rugs could use a good vacuum.

  The kids exchanged looks and then sighed in unison. Gabriella knew she should insist that they complete their chores before playing, but she was tired of being the disciplinarian. “Did you at least make up your beds?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right. Don’t wander off. We’ll be going to town in a little while.” They needed groceries if they were going to eat again today. This morning they’d polished off the takeout they’d gotten on the road. The kids hadn’t minded having leftover chicken and mashed potatoes for dinner and again for breakfast, but Gabriella’s stomach hadn’t been pleased. She preferred to start her morning with sausage and eggs. Not to mention she really missed her morning cup of coffee.