Your Ranch...or Mine?

If his instincts about her were correct, Taylor would want to win the Lucky Ace back by playing the same game Ben had lost. Lane was sure that in her mind it would vindicate her grandfather once and for all, as well as give her the satisfaction of beating him at his own game.

His conscience had reminded him that he was a professional and might have an unfair advantage. But surely Ben had taught Taylor his strategy and style of playing during her many visits to the ranch. If anything, that would make the game more interesting, and he hoped that she took him up on his offer to decide the fate of the ranch that way.

When he walked into the kitchen a few minutes later, instead of finding Taylor making breakfast, he found her talking on the phone. Who in the Sam Hill could she be carrying on a conversation with at five in the morning?

“He just came downstairs for breakfast,” she said, smiling. “Would you like to tell him yourself?”

Lane frowned. “Who is it?”

“One of your brothers,” she said, handing him the cordless phone.

As she turned toward the counter and whatever it was she was preparing for their meal, Lane cringed as he put the phone to his ear. The last time he’d received a phone call from one of his brothers this early in the morning, it was to tell him that his foster father had died from an undiagnosed heart problem.

“What’s up?” he asked, walking down the hall to the study. He wasn’t sure which one of his brothers was on the other end of the line, but it didn’t matter. They were always there for each other and always would be.

“You’re talking to the proud daddy of a healthy baby girl,” Ryder said, sounding happier than Lane could ever remember.

Relieved that the news wasn’t something bad, Lane grinned as he lowered himself into the desk chair. “Congratulations! How are Summer and the baby doing?”

“They’re both doing just fine,” Ryder answered. “Summer is understandably tired, but things couldn’t have gone any better for either of them.”

“That’s great. And how are you holding up?” Lane asked, laughing.

“I face two thousand pounds of pissed-off beef on a regular basis without so much as blinking, but watching Summer go through labor was the most intense thing I’ve ever experienced,” Ryder said, sounding as if he was glad everything was over with. “Let’s just say I’m recovering and leave it at that.”

“Glad to hear it. What’s my new niece’s name?” Lane asked, settling back in the chair.

“I’m leaving that up to Summer.” Ryder paused as if a wave of emotion threatened. When he finally continued, his voice was extremely husky. “I don’t care what she decides to name the baby. I swear I didn’t think it was possible to fall in love with something so tiny so damned fast.”

“You’re going to be a great dad,” Lane said, feeling his own chest tighten. Clearing his throat, he teased, “I can just see you now, sitting on a little chair with your knees threatening to bump your chin while you sip imaginary tea out of a tiny pink teacup.”

Ryder laughed. “I’ll be more than happy to do it. Whatever my little girl wants, my little girl gets.”

“When do we all get to meet the newest member of the family?” Lane asked, hoping it would be soon. Since Sam and his wife had little Hank, he had really started to get into being a proud uncle.

“When I talked to Sam a few minutes ago, he said that Bria and Mariah have been planning a family dinner for the past couple of weeks in anticipation of Summer having the baby,” Ryder answered.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Lane said. “You know how much Bria loves family get-togethers. Just let me know when they’re planning on having it and I’ll be there.”

“I sure will, bro,” Ryder assured him. “Now, before I hang up and call the rest of the guys to tell them about the baby, would you like to let me in on who Taylor Scott is and what she’s doing answering your phone at this time of morning?”

“It’s a long story,” Lane hedged, not all that eager to try explaining the situation.

“Why don’t you give me the thumbnail version?” Ryder pressed.

Lane sighed heavily. He should have known better than to think he could end the call without his brother wanting to know what was going on. He’d do the same thing with any of his brothers if their roles were reversed.

“She’s Ben Cunningham’s granddaughter,” Lane said, hoping that would satisfy Ryder’s curiosity.

“Did she come back from California with Ben?” his brother asked.

“No, Ben passed away about three weeks ago.” Lane ran his hand over the tension building at the back of his neck. He wasn’t surprised that his brother wanted more of an explanation. If he was in Ryder’s shoes, he would want details, too. “And before you ask when she arrived, Taylor is the redhead who crashed the party the other night. Ben left her his share of the ranch.”