Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

C HARLOTTE DIDN ' T SAY anything when Cal ended the call with Harper's therapist. Neither did Cal. They both sat there, the silence thick and heavy.

As if to try to cheer them up, the sunlight continued to bounce off the diamond in Effie's ring, and it sent beautiful rainbows fluttering around them. But Charlotte knew the ring wasn't going to cheer her up. Just the opposite. It was a reminder that her knee-jerk reaction of claiming Cal as her fiancé had turned into a huge emotional punch.

The phone call, however, was an even bigger emotional slam. No doubt about that. The visit to see Harper would carry with it a mountain of pain and grief for Cal. For Harper, too. But Charlotte was guessing that Harper might need a jolt like that to jump-start her recovery. The problem was the jolt might do the reverse for Cal. It could send him nose-diving deeper into guilt.

"I could go with you to the visit," she offered. "Not just with the doctor but with Harper, too."

Cal immediately shook his head. "No. Harper's likely to be angry. No telling what she might do or say if she's capable of speaking."

That wouldn't bother Charlotte. Well, it would, but it wouldn't cut her the way it would Cal. Her heart was incredibly heavy for what Harper was going through, but she suspected Cal didn't want her to witness whatever Harper might sling at him. He probably thought it was best not to have witnesses for that.

"Okay, but if you change your mind, the offer stands," Charlotte said.

He made a sound of agreement. What he didn't do was look at her. Or make her believe he'd take her up on that offer. No. Cal would go it alone. And it would rip him to pieces.

Charlotte reached over and put her hand on his. Of course, that sent the engagement ring into a color-burst dance again, and some of the sparkles were glittering around his face when he finally turned to her.

"Don't mention anything to my family about me going to see Harper," he said. "That would only make them worry more."

She wanted to ask if they should worry more, but she already knew that Cal wouldn't want that. Even if it was warranted.

"I won't tell anyone about the visit," Charlotte assured him. "Maybe when you see Harper, though, you could talk about us being kids. Nothing recent. I think she was happy when she was a kid, or at least happier , and it might help for her to tap into those memories."

Cal made another of those agreement noises, but then he stopped and shook his head. "Even when we were kids, Harper wasn't happy. Not like she should have been." He cursed and tugged his hand from hers so he could then use it to scrub it over his face. "We heard the way her dad talked to her, the way he berated her, the way he'd yell at her for anything and everything, and nobody, including me, did a damn thing about it."

"We were kids," Charlotte was quick to point out. Cal was already beating himself up enough without adding this. "And when someone would ask her about the verbal abuse, Harper would always insist he was a great dad, who loved her so much that he wanted the best for her."

Classic battering syndrome. Harper was covering for her abuser. Covering for her father, Paul. And what Paul wanted wasn't what was best for Harper but what would make her, and therefore him, look best. When she didn't live up to expectations, he struck out. Charlotte had no trouble recalling a recent incident of that.

"A couple of months ago, Desi at the diner wanted to name a burger after Harper, and her dad nixed the idea," Charlotte relayed. "Paul said she should come in first for that to happen, that the burger should be named after you."

Judging from the sound he made, Cal hadn't heard about that incident, but she hoped it made him see that Paul was also a driving force in this competition between Cal and her.

Charlotte wondered if Paul was still trying to supposedly motivate his daughter with the negative stuff. Or maybe he'd washed his hands of his daughter when Harper had driven off that bridge. For Harper's own well-being, that last scenario would probably be the best, especially if her father tried to continue his strong-arm approach when she was in therapy.

"Her dad drove her to be perfect," Cal muttered. "But I took it up a lot of notches. I drove her to push herself too hard. I didn't want to see what it was doing to her."

Charlotte would have definitely tried to nip that guilt in the bud by reminding him that Harper had likely done her own driving toward perfection, but the front door of the house opened, and Becker stepped out onto the porch. He was clutching onto the collar of a barking, growling dog that was a German shepherd mix.

Both Becker and the dog were sporting scowls so she couldn't tell if their arrival was the cause or whether their faces were just naturally settled into that particular expression.

"What the hell are y'all doing just sitting there in my driveway?" Becker called out over the nonstop barking.

Sighing, Charlotte knew she'd have to push the pause button on any attempt to comfort Cal, and she stepped from the truck. "Cal and I came to pay you a visit." She tried to keep her voice oh-so-cheery while Becker clearly stayed in the oh-so-sourpuss zone.

"You're wasting your time and mine," Becker snapped. He had a tight grip on the dog's collar, but thankfully, the canine didn't seem to be trying to break free to charge at them. "I haven't made up my mind about selling to you."

"Good morning, Mr. Becker," Cal said, getting out as well and obviously ignoring the man's unfriendly welcome. "Maybell asked me to bring over some cookies." He took the container from beneath his seat and held it up.

"Maybell," Becker muttered, and while that was still a snarl, Charlotte detected just a smidge of softening. She had no idea, though, if that was for Maybell herself or the cookies.

Becker no doubt knew who Maybell was, what with this being Emerald Creek and all. That meant he also knew the woman's baking skills were legendary.

Cal threaded his way around the weed-filled yard and to the porch, and while still keeping his distance from the dog, he extended his arm out as far as it would go to offer the cookies to Becker. Again, she thought she saw a bit of softening when Becker took them. He muttered something that could have been thanks. Or a belch. The dog quit barking, too, maybe in anticipation of getting a treat.

"It's a pretty day," Cal went on, obviously pretending this was a friendly conversation, "and I hadn't seen your ranch in years. I hope you don't mind that we just dropped by without calling first."

"I wouldn't have answered my phone," Becker was quick to let him know.

Cal nodded as if that was not only understood but also perfectly acceptable, and he put his hands on his hips and glanced around. Charlotte had to hand it to him: Cal didn't scowl at the run-down state of the place. He just added a few more nods, a smile and made it seem as if this were indeed a paradise.

"And who is this guy?" Cal asked, tipping his head to the dog.

"Jack the Ripper. Yeah, I know that's not a name for a girl, but it fit her personality. Don't try to pet her. She bites."

Cal didn't attempt any petting, but he stooped down, smiling at the dog. "Hey, Jack. I'm Cal. You're doing a good job protecting this place."

The dog cocked her head to the side and began to wag her tail. All ferocity was gone, and Jack was apparently soothed by Cal's charm.

Becker, however, clearly wasn't soothed or charmed. His scowl returned in spades. "No more bullshit," the man grumbled, looking straight at Charlotte. "Why do you want my ranch? If you're marrying Donnelly here, you could be living on Saddlebrook." There was plenty of mocking tone at the mention of the name of the Donnelly ranch.

"Saddlebrook is beautiful," Charlotte answered, "but I don't want to live there. I love this place."

"Bullshit," Becker repeated, and that set off huge amounts of alarm bells for Charlotte.

Had Becker heard about her plans for the ranch? Had he learned the truth about her and Cal's engagement? Maybe. It was possible the BS was for her love remark. Anything she said to Becker could be a risk, but she went with something she thought might sway him into selling.

"Emerald Creek has a couple of wounded warriors who are looking for a place to recover and regain some peace in their lives," she admitted. Of course, her hope was that it would be more than just Alden and Harper. "Your ranch is big enough to offer them a place to stay while they're recovering."

And she waited. Holding her breath.

"This place is for livestock," Becker grumbled.

Charlotte gave an enthusiastic nod. "Oh, there'll be livestock." That was pretty much the extent of how she could answer that since she knew very little about running an actual ranch.

"My brother Blue recently purchased some rescue horses," Cal quickly chimed in, "and your land would give them plenty of room to roam. They could do some healing here, like the wounded warriors."

Charlotte didn't know if that was a real-deal offer or not, but she definitely liked the sound of it. It could end up being a mutually satisfying arrangement for the residents and the horses.

Becker's eyes narrowed some when he stared at Cal, and then he seemed to relent again. "Yeah, I heard about those horses. You got some fancy-schmancy horse whisperer working with them."

"Marin," Cal provided. "She's made a lot of progress, but my brother found another group of neglected horses. Not Andalusian like we usually raise at Saddlebrook but a mixed-breed lot that was pretty much left to pasture when their owner had to be put in assisted living. Blue's bought them, and they'll be transported to Emerald Creek once we have a place for them."

"The Donnellys have got plenty of land." That came out as yet another snarl from Becker.

"We do," Cal readily admitted, "but at the moment we also have a lot of livestock that we won't be selling off for at least another four months."

Becker still didn't look convinced. "I figured you Donnellys would be cutting back, considering what happened to your daddy." He tapped his chest. "I heard about his bad ticker."

Cal nodded. "Yes, he's had two heart attacks and is taking a break from ranching. My brother Egan took over running the cattle side of the business. Blue's managing the Andalusian horses. We'd need a place for these new rescues and any others we might end up buying."

Becker kept his steely gaze on Cal, but the man also opened the plastic container and plucked out a cookie. The air was suddenly filled not with pollen from the weeds but with the scent of lemons.

"So, the Donnellys are looking to expand onto my land," Becker threw out there like a challenge.

"We are, but the biggest reason we want your place is that Charlotte is looking for a new home. A home that will keep what you've built here and add to it," Cal said, slipping his arm around her waist and inching her closer.

Charlotte took the closing-in cue and lifted her hand to take hold of Cal's arm. In doing so, she made sure the engagement ring was in Becker's line of sight. Thankfully, the sun cooperated again and caused the diamond to flash.

"I see you finally got around to getting her a ring," Becker told Cal.

Cal nodded and snuggled even closer to Charlotte. So close that the side of her left breast brushed against his chest. It wasn't a whole lot of contact, but it still packed a wallop. Mercy, did it. She felt that blasted tickle of heat again. That tug below her belly.

The lust.

For the past two years it was as if her body had gone dormant when it'd come to men and sex, but it sure as heck wasn't dormant now. At least she didn't have to kiss Cal. That would make things so much worse—

Cal leaned in and kissed her.

Holy moly. Even though it was barely a touch of his lips to hers, the heat zinged its way from her mouth to all parts of her. Especially the wrong parts, and Charlotte had to remind herself and her body that this was all for show. Well, the kiss was anyway. The lust was the real deal. And completely one-sided on her part.

Wasn't it?

Charlotte would have sworn that it was, but when Cal pulled back from the kiss, their gazes met. She saw some heat. Maybe. But, no. She had to be wrong about that. Had to be.

Unless this was pity lust.

It was possible. Cal might believe she was crushed about what Noah had done. And Noah had put in that text for Cal to offer up some TLC. So she wasn't seeing actual heat but rather a snowball of emotions.

"I'd rather you do your smooching somewhere other than my porch," Becker grumbled. The grumble was toned down, though, because he was chowing down on the cookie. "And it ain't necessary to show me you're in love and all. I got eyes, don't I? I can see it for myself."

A laugh nearly burst out of Charlotte's mouth. In love and all? Really? That's what Becker was seeing? If so, either the man had seriously bad eyesight or else she and Cal were very convincing.

She waited, hoping this would be the moment when Becker would finally say he was selling her the place. He didn't. "It's time for one of the TV shows I watch," Becker muttered, tipping his head to the container of cookies he'd tucked under his arm. "Tell Maybell I said thanks for these."

He turned to go back inside just as Jack started barking again. Charlotte automatically moved back from the dog, who began straining to get out of the grip Becker still had on her collar.

"Dang squirrel," Becker grumbled. "Settle down, Jack."

But the dog didn't settle. Just the opposite. Jack bolted, causing Becker to tumble forward. Cal and Charlotte both reached for him but weren't in time. Becker landed with a hard thud on the porch. Charlotte heard the sickening sound of what she was certain was a bone snapping.

Becker howled out in pain, and that thankfully caused Jack to stop. The dog ditched all efforts to get at the squirrel and turned back to her owner. No more barking; Jack started to whimper.

Cal stooped down, examining Becker but not touching him. Probably because he didn't want to risk making the man's injuries any worse. There was a gash on his head, and his face was now twisted in pain. He'd dropped the cookies and was trying to clutch his leg.

"It's broken," Becker gutted out.

Yes, it almost certainly was, and there was blood on the knee of the man's jeans. Blood, too, from the head gash.

"I'm calling an ambulance," Charlotte insisted, figuring that Becker would balk about that.

He didn't.

Becker just continued to lie there on the porch and moan in pain while she tapped 9-1-1. The emergency dispatcher answered on the first ring, and within just a couple of seconds Charlotte had the reassurance that an ambulance was on the way and would be there in about fifteen minutes. She relayed that to Cal and Becker and went back closer to Becker to keep an eye on him.

"It's okay, Jack," Becker muttered to the dog, who was also keeping careful watch of her master.

The man's gentle tone was certainly a surprise, and while still whimpering, Jack lay down next to Becker and rested her big head on his shoulder.

"Do you think anything else is broken other than your leg?" Cal asked.

Becker shook his head, squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. He started to shiver, probably from shock. The color had drained from his face as well. "I don't think so, but it's bad. I can feel it. It's bad," he repeated.

Charlotte couldn't argue with that. It was possible the man had a compound fracture, and if so, he might end up needing surgery. She felt totally selfish when she thought of how this might affect the sale of the ranch. She shoved that notion aside and stepped around them to go to the front door.

"I'll get a blanket," she offered.

She stepped inside, and as she'd already learned from the one showing Becker had approved for her and the Realtor, the interior was not a companion piece to the weed-filled yard. It was surprisingly clean and uncluttered, though the furniture was well past merely being outdated. In fact, some of the pieces had come and gone back into style several times.

There weren't any throws or such on the sofa, and since she didn't want to go poking around in any of the bedrooms, she grabbed a jacket from a peg near the door and came back out. Becker was shivering even more now, and she draped the jacket over him, hoping the slight pressure of the fabric didn't do more harm than good.

"If y'all hadn't been here," Becker said, gulping in a series of quick short breaths, "I would have had to crawl my way back into the house to the phone." He shook his head. "I'm not sure I could've done that. I could have ended up dying out here."

Charlotte braced herself, figuring that Becker was about to say that it was all their fault for paying him this impromptu visit. But he didn't.

"This is a life-pact," Becker added a moment later. "Neither of you might even know what that is."

"We know," Cal and Charlotte said in unison.

Mercy, did they. Cal's life-pact to Noah had been a biggie in Cal's life, and without it, she and Cal might not have even ended up here, since he likely wouldn't have played messenger for Noah.

Becker managed a weak nod. "Good. Then, you know I owe you," he said. He looked at Charlotte, and even though his eyes had watered from the pain, he lifted his hand toward her. It took her a moment to realize he wanted her to shake it.

She did.

"That's a done deal, then," Becker muttered. "I'm selling you the ranch."