Page 1 of Rancher's Return

Chapter One

Welcome to Lone Rock...

He hadn’t seen that sign in years. He wasn’t sure if he felt nostalgic or just plain pissed off.

He supposed it didn’t matter. Because he was here.

For the first time in twenty years, Buck Carson was home.

And he aimed to make it a homecoming to remember.

“You look like you want to punch somebody in the face.”

“You look like you got in a fight with your own depression and lost.”

“You look like someone who hasn’t learned to successfully process his emotions and traumas.”

Buck scowled, and glared at his three sons, who were only just recentlylegallyhis. “I’m good,” he said, as his truck continued to barrel down the main drag of Lone Rock, Oregon, heading straight to his parents’ ranch, where he hadn’t been since he’d first left two decades ago.

“Are you?” Reggie asked, looking at him with snarky, faux teen concern.

“Yes, Reg, and I wouldn’t tell you if I wasn’t, because I’m the parent.”

“I don’t think that’s healthy,” Marcus said.

“I think that somebody should’ve taught you not to use therapy speak as a weapon,” Buck said to his middle son.

“You’re in luck,” said Colton, his oldest, “because I don’t use therapy speak at all. Not even in therapy.”

“Yeah, the therapy hasn’t taken with you,” Marcus said.

“Hey,” Reggie said. “Leave him alone. He’s traumatized. By having to go through life with that face of his.”

“All right,” Buck said.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t known what he was getting into when he’d decided to adopt these boys. But becoming an instant father to fifteen-, sixteen-and seventeen-year-old kids was a little more intense than he had anticipated.

When he’d left Lone Rock he’d been completely and totally hopeless. He’d been convinced he was to blame for the death of his friends, and hell, the whole town had been too.

After everything his family had already been through, he hadn’t wanted to bring that kind of shame to their door. So he’d left.

And spent the first few years away proving everything everyone had ever said about him right. He had been drunk or fucked-up for most of that time. And one day, he had woken up in the bed of a woman whose name he didn’t know and realized he wasn’t living.

His three best friends had died in a car accident on graduation night, driving drunk from a bonfire party back to their campsite. He had also been drunk, but driving behind them in his own car. He had made the same mistake they had, and yet for some reason, they had paid for it and he hadn’t.

They’d only been at the party because of him. All upstanding kids with bright futures, while Buck had by far been the screwup of the group. Their futures had been cut short, and for some reason, he had gone ahead and made his own future a mess.

That day, he woke up feeling shitty, but alive.

And when he had the realization that he still drew breath, and that he wasn’t doing anyone any favors by wasting the life he still had, he had gotten his ass out of bed and gone into a rehab program.

But in truth, he had never been tempted to take another drink after that morning, never been tempted to touch another illicit substance. Because he had decided then and there he was going to live differently.

Because he’d found a new purpose.

After completing the rehab program, he had limped onto New Hope Ranch asking for a job. The place was a facility for troubled youth, where they worked the land, worked with animals and in general turned their lives around through the simple act of being part of the community.

Buck had been working there for sixteen years. Those kids had become his heart and soul; that work had become his reason why. And five months ago, when he had been offered the position of director, he had realized he was at a new crossroads.

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