Page 16 of Take Me Please, Cowboy (The Calhouns & Campbells of Cold Canyon Ranch #1)

He was happy that she could choose her life and path.

He was proud of her for working so hard to achieve her dreams. But he didn’t have options.

He lacked freedom. Their two worlds were as different as could be, and while he supported her dreams, he felt a pang that he’d never been able to dream.

And the last thing he’d ever do was tie an independent, successful woman to him.

If together, Ansley’s creativity would suffer.

Her freedom would disappear. And Rye didn’t think he’d ever resent Ansley, but he suspected she’d grow to resent him, and that was the worst outcome.

It was every bit as bad as Hannah chaining herself to Ron for the rest of her life.

*

In the house, Ansley locked the front door, and called her mom back, filling her in on everything Dr. Maida had said that afternoon.

“It looks like Mr. Wyatt was right. Uncle Clyde wasn’t just lonely.

He is having cognitive issues, and it’s only going to get worse,” she concluded.

“Mom, we’re going to need a plan for Uncle Clyde’s care and the ranch.

If no one in our family wants this place, maybe it’s time to sell it. ”

“Your uncle owns half. Your dad can’t sell it without Clyde agreeing, and I don’t think Clyde would agree. That’s the only home he’s ever known,” her mom answered.

“But he can’t take care of it. He can’t even take care of himself.

He’s going to need ongoing physical therapy, probably some occupational therapy.

I’m happy to help him, but I’m not a nurse.

I can make meals and make sure he’s safe, but I’m not comfortable bathing him, or helping him with the toilet stuff. ”

“Your dad and I don’t expect that of you, either, Ansley. I’ll begin investigating a home health nurse tomorrow. It is Sunday though and I might not make a lot of progress until Monday.”

“Which is fine, since Uncle Clyde isn’t coming home until Wednesday.”

“That’s good, that gives us some time.”

Ansley walked with her cell phone down the hall and into the living room. “Have any of my brothers expressed any interest in Cold Canyon Ranch?”

“Not exactly.”

Ansley stopped in front of the arched bookshelf flanking the fireplace. One of the shelves was full of small gold framed black-and-white photos. “It’s hard for anyone to be curious, much less enthusiastic, after Dad’s harsh criticism all these years.”

“He has such a complicated history with his brother and that ranch.”

“I know, but maybe talk to Dad, let him know Uncle Clyde is not going to be able to make good decisions for the ranch, and perhaps it’s time to come up with a plan because once sold, the money could be invested elsewhere.”

“Your uncle might live years yet.”

“And I hope he does, for both Dad and Uncle Clyde’s sake. I don’t think it’s right for Dad to leave all of this to you and me. Clyde is his brother. This was his home. He should be here problem solving with us.”

Her mom said nothing, but Ansley could feel the emotion on the line, and all the things that no one would say, about two brothers who couldn’t forgive, and those around them who couldn’t forget.

“I don’t want to put you in the middle, Mom,” Ansley added quietly, “but I’ve been put in the middle and I’m happy to help—for now. ”

“I’ll call you Monday after I’ve spoken to a nursing agency. We want someone there by Wednesday?”

“Yes.” Ansley hesitated. “Thanks, Mom. I appreciate you.”

Her mom’s low laugh warmed Ansley. “And I appreciate you. I’m proud of you, you do know that?”

“I do.”

Hanging up, Ansley slowly slid the phone back into her pocket, her gaze falling onto the framed photos again. One photo in particular caught her attention. Was that her dad?

She lifted the picture, and yes, it was her dad, but it was also her uncle, the picture taken when they were just boys.

There was another photo with their mom, Ansley’s grandmother, a grandmother she’d only met once or twice.

They were all dressed up, looking as if they were on their way to church, or maybe it was an Easter service since her grandmother was wearing a pretty straw hat.

Ansley had never seen pictures of her dad this young.

Back in Last Stand there was a photo of her dad playing football, but he was a teenager in that photo, perhaps in his senior year of high school, but here he was just seven or eight.

Her uncle Clyde would’ve been two years younger.

It made her ache on the inside to see them here, smiling, arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders.

They looked happy, like buddies or best friends.

But then, they had been best friends before jealousy and betrayal tore them apart.

Ansley was fairly certain there were more photos somewhere, maybe photo albums in a closet. One of these days she’d have to look for them. Perhaps she’d ask Uncle Clyde, although it might not be something he wanted to discuss.

Troubled, she left the room, switched off the overhead light and, after double-checking the back door was securely locked, went to her room.

It wasn’t until she’d changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed that she realized she and Rye hadn’t made plans to meet tomorrow.

But, of course, he had more important things on his mind. Like winning his events at the rodeo.

*

Weeks ago, Sophie Wyatt and her sister-in-law the newlywed, Dr Briar Wyatt, had convinced Ansley that she should volunteer to work the pancake breakfast during the rodeo weekend as she’d meet more people and she’d enjoy the festivities.

Ansley hadn’t been sure she should work a booth hosted by the Daughters of Montana, as she wasn’t from Montana, but as it turned out, this morning she was glad to have something specific to do other than worry about her uncle, and obsess about Rye.

Obviously, Rye had to focus on his upcoming events. It was his job, and it was a dangerous job. He couldn’t afford to be careless, and he needed to be focused, but Ansley couldn’t help checking her phone every twenty minutes or so to see if she’d missed a call or text.

She hadn’t.

Despite Sophie’s energy and Briar’s quick wit, Ansley didn’t enjoy herself as much as she’d hoped.

She was doing something useful by volunteering to dish up bacon and sausages to hundreds of people, but her emotions were all over the place.

If Rye called, she’d no longer feel blue, but as the morning passed without word from him, she couldn’t help feeling down.

It worried her that she was falling for Rye this hard.

They’d only just met. How could she have such unrealistic expectations?

Ansley felt as if she’d fallen down the rabbit hole. She was getting in too deep, chasing something unlikely, maybe even impossible.

Then, at eleven fifteen her phone finally rang, but it wasn’t Rye.

It was the hospital calling to say that her uncle was extremely agitated, and he was insisting he be released.

The hospital couldn’t keep him against his will so could Ansley please come and pick him up?

There would be paperwork to do, and discharge instructions as well, but they expected he’d be able to leave by one, possibly two.

Which fell right in the middle of today’s rodeo finals.

Disappointed, Ansley gave quick hugs to Sophie and Briar before walking to her car, which she’d parked close to St. James. Once at the hospital, she sent Rye a quick text that she wouldn’t be able to attend the rodeo today, but she’d be cheering him on from home.

Inside the hospital, she was kept busy signing forms and getting discharge instructions and speaking to her mother who’d talked to a Bozeman based care agency that wanted to know exactly the kind of help Clyde would need, and since Ansley didn’t know, she had to request a nurse come and speak to her mom so her mom could get all of her questions answered.

Her uncle had finally resigned himself to the wait, and it was just after two when Ansley was told to bring her car around to the entrance and someone would have her uncle waiting.

He’d be in a wheelchair and the attendant would help get her uncle into the car, but then Ansley would need to get him into the house.

Ansley wasn’t ready for this. She’d thought she’d have three days to prepare the house for Clyde’s arrival.

Instead, he was being returned to her and she didn’t have a wheelchair to push him into the house.

Apparently, he should be able to walk the few steps into the house with her assistance, but she didn’t find the information reassuring.

Should be able to walk didn’t mean he could walk .

In the end, after much silent agonizing, they made it back to the ranch, and after lots of slow, teetering steps, into the house, and down the hall to her uncle’s bedroom and bathroom.

He needed to use the bathroom, and she waited outside the door until he called for her.

After he’d washed his hands, she put her arm around his waist and walked him to his bed.

He wanted out of his clothes, and she helped him undress to his boxers, and he slowly, painfully climbed into bed.

It was obvious he shouldn’t be home yet.

It was obvious he wasn’t close to being independent.

But it was also obvious he wanted his own bed in his own home, and she couldn’t blame him for that.

*

Rye sent Ansley a text just before his first event. Are you here? he asked.

She didn’t answer.

He suspected she hadn’t come today, and he was disappointed, but at the same time, pragmatic.

She had commitments. He had commitments.

Fortunately, he felt good, strong, ready to ride.

He was going into today’s competition in good shape, with him at the top of the leaderboard in steer wrestling, second in saddle bronc behind Huck, and fourth in bare back.

Now he just needed to clinch a couple wins.