My Billionaire Cowboy Ranch: Billionaire Copper Canyon Cowboy Romance series, #1

Chapter One

The frantic phone call at three in the morning was like being doused with cold water and Nicholas Arrington, sitting in his fancy penthouse, surrounded by wealthy reminders that he had dragged himself out of the country life, sat there frozen, his mother’s sobbing voice still resounding in his head.

Liver cancer.

His hands trembled as he sat in the dimly lit room, shaken by the news.

For a few seconds, he tried to imagine his robust father who had always been the picture of health, a wide smile on his face, now lying in a hospital bed, weakened. Nicholas let out a shaky breath and rested his elbows on his thighs, his hands covering his face. The fear wrapping around him was suffocating and he got up and walked over to the large floor-to- ceiling window that looked over the whole of New York, the city glittering with a thousand lights, a stunningly beautiful spectacle.

It was a scene he was used to, having lived in this penthouse for the past four years. It had been his ambition that had driven him here, to this city, desiring an escape from the laborious farm life. He had wanted more than what his small world offered him and look at him now. He was a billionaire, a tech giant. He had always been good with computers and now he was the best of the best.

He had left his family behind, visiting them once in a blue moon, the distance between them growing more and more by the year. He had seen the wistfulness in his father’s eyes on his last visit, the same father who used to carry him on his shoulders, and taught him how to jumpstart a tractor. Nicholas had always assumed that his parents would be fine and healthy. Never had he imagined that such a calamity would befall them.

And now his mother was calling him, begging for his help, because they couldn’t handle the ranch and the expenses that the treatment required. It made him feel bitter. His entire fortune was at their disposal. All they had to do was say the word and he would bring the best doctors and provide the best possible treatment. But his mother had sounded fearful, like she was asking a stranger for money.

His jaw tight, he reached for his phone to call Ariel, his personal assistant, when he changed his mind and reached for his laptop instead. Booking the flight for tomorrow morning, he sent an email to Ariel to put all his appointments on hold for the next two weeks. He started packing his essentials and six hours later he was sitting in a first-class seat, on his way to Denver. Copper Canyon, the small town he had been raised in, was a two-hour drive out of the city.

He closed his eyes on the plane, wanting the next six hours to pass as quickly as possible.

Stepping out of the cool airport, Nicholas’ shirt stuck to his back, and he winced under the glaring sun of Colorado in July. Taking out his sunglasses, he put them on, and ignored the many gazes upon him.

Having taken after his father in height, he was tall, with the kind of muscles one could only get from working twenty years at a ranch and then dedicating the next ten years to maintaining his form in a gym. His hair was a dirty yellow, lazily combed back, his piercing blue eyes hidden under the expensive glasses. With high cheekbones, a sturdy jaw, and thin lips that were attractive as they were cold, Nicholas was an attractive man who drew people’s eyes wherever he went. He was aware of it but he wasn’t particularly vain about his looks.

Standing at the arrivals gate, he was about to step towards a taxi when he heard a familiar voice he hadn’t heard in over three years.

Nicky!

Surprise flashed through his eyes and he turned his head slightly to see a tall man striding towards him, clad in a plaid shirt and dirty jeans, a straw hat on his head, a large grin on his lips.

Jordan, Nicholas replied in greeting, a little reserved, when the man reached him. Jordan Clayford had been his childhood friend. You—oomph! He was dragged abruptly into a hug.

Look at your ugly mug! Same as ever!

In these past ten years, nobody had ever tried to manhandle him like that. Nicholas tried to shove the man off. Forcing him to an arm’s length, he gave Jordan an icy look. You haven’t changed a bit. Still as rowdy as ever, I see.

Jordan snorted. Oh, get off your high horse. I’m your ride. Brought the old wagon in case you had luggage.

An ominous feeling crept into Nicholas’ heart and he looked over to see a weathered-looking red truck, looking like it would fall apart at any moment now.

That thing’s still running? Nicholas was horrified and Jordan looked smug.

Yep! I changed the engine.

Nicholas followed him reluctantly to the vehicle, which was a nightmare from his childhood. Are you sure it’s safe?

Jordan just smirked and Nicholas had no choice but to climb in the passenger seat.

The interior smelled like animals and Nicholas winced, immediately rolling down the window. What died in here?

His friend threw on his own shades and put the truck in gear, scoffing. You’re sounding more and more like a city boy. Now, hold on. This is gonna be a bumpy ride.

Nicholas’ face grew pale.

An hour and a half later, he stumbled out of the truck, his face white.

Nicholas?" A soft, wary voice reached his ears and Nicholas straightened up to see his mother standing in the doorway, holding onto it as if for dear life. He drank in the sight of the woman who would simultaneously scold him and pamper him when he was a youth. But the woman he remembered had been rounder, with red cheeks and a loving smile.

Susan Arrington looked tired and worn out with worry lines that he never remembered seeing there before. His mother was growing old.

The thought hit with him a pang of sharp grief.

And the eyes that looked at him were like those looking at a stranger.

He swallowed and took a step forward, and she just stared at him, her gaze haunted, her voice a soft whisper. I didn’t think you’d come.

Shock tore through him. Why would you think that?

She pressed her lips together and lowered her gaze, saying softly, I’ll go prepare a room for—

The unbearable loneliness at the way she was treating him had Nicholas stepping forward, and asking, feeling wretched, You’re not even going to give your son a hug?

His mother froze and then looked at him, her eyes searching his for something. But Nicholas didn’t let her say anything, instead covering the distance between them and wrapping his arms around her and whispering, I’m home, Mom.

She went still in his arms, her hands by her side, and felt so frail compared to the last time he had seen her. When had that been?

To his shock, he couldn’t remember, and seeing her like this, his heart clenched in his chest, the words torn from him. I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long.

At his regret-stricken words, her form started shaking and she lifted her arms and wrapped them around his broad back, clutching the back of his suit jacket, her cries silent. He held her like that, unwilling to let go, her heartbroken cries making him feel like a monster.

Jordan stepped onto the porch, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. Why don’t you go inside, Mrs. Arrington, and have a good chat with Nicky? I’ll go see if Lucy can make some lemonade.

Nicholas met his eyes and nodded in a silent thank you.

Come on, Mom. His eyes strayed to the tight grip his mother had on his sleeve, as if she was afraid he’d run away, and he swallowed, his heart hurting.

The interior of the house was the same aside from a few superficial changes. As he guided her inside, his eyes went to the staircase in the foyer which led to the upper story where he and his brother used to have their rooms, along with two extra guest rooms, and their parents’ room. Right next to the front door was the massive parlor slash family room. Past the stairs was the laundry room, and next to it was his father’s study. The kitchen was at the end of the small hall and Nicholas chose to take his mother there.

She had always been the most comfortable in the kitchen. She used to call it her sanctuary.

The large kitchen had a round table on the side and a gleaming L-shaped counter against the wall with a stove and an attached oven. The refrigerator was humming loudly and he saw a few old machines that had been maintained over years of love and care. The paint on the walls was peeling and although Nicholas could see that the kitchen was in desperate need of repairs, he also saw how carefully it had been maintained.

He helped his mother into a seat at the kitchen table and sat down next to her, ignoring the way Jordan barged out, calling loudly for somebody or other called Lucy.

His mother wasn’t meeting his eyes and Nicholas wrapped his hands around hers. Mom, are you angry with me?

She shook her head mutely, and he felt a hint of desperation.

Then why won’t you look at me? he asked her, his tone not quite steady, and maybe that got his mother’s attention and she raised her eyes.

You called me last night and then you thought I wouldn’t come?

She swallowed, looking uncertain, and he wished he could find a trace of the laughing woman who used to pinch his cheeks and call him her little genius.

Mama, what happened to you?

His mother’s lips parted and her voice was weak, as she asked, Are you going to leave again?

Nicholas stared at her. No, I cleared my schedule for two weeks or more if needed. I’m here to look after you and Dad.

The last part of the sentence came out of nowhere, and his mother’s eyes widened as she grasped at his hands. You mean it?

Nicholas blinked and he nodded. Of course! You asked me to come home.

She looked stunned, as if unable to grasp the idea that all she had to do was ask him to return and he would.

You—Your dad and I—We thought you hated us. You said you never wanted to see this place again. She sounded wary and Nicholas suddenly recalled the last time he had come home and the fight that had ensued. His father had tried to convince him to take over the ranch since his brother wasn’t good at running the place. He had stayed for a few hours and hot words had been exchanged before he had stormed back to New York, not even bothering to say goodbye to them.

That had been three years ago.

Between then and now, he hadn’t talked to his family at all, except for the phone call this morning to Sam to relay his flight details.

Three years ago, his mother hadn’t been this fragile-looking woman who seemed to have forgotten how to smile. Was this his fault?

I don’t—I never hated you guys. Nicholas brought his mother’s hands to his lips gently, and saw the way her eyes brimmed with tears.

You never called.

I’m sorry.

Your dad would sit by the phone every evening, she told him, her voice cracking, and Nicholas felt like somebody had reached into his chest and gripped his heart in a merciless hold.

Mom, I had no idea, he managed to say. I had so much work stuff going on that I didn’t once think about … He trailed off. His excuses were pointless, weren’t they? From childhood, he had been reared to understand that family was important. And yet what had he done? He had walked away from his the first chance he got.

I’m sorry, he said, regret all over his face.

He hadn’t wanted to live this life of grueling everyday manual labor and that’s why he had left in search of a better future. But never had he thought that his parents would feel so abandoned.

He didn’t know what to say to fix this but for now, he did know what took priority. Where’s Dad?

Copper Canyon only had a clinic.

The nearest hospital was in the city and Nicholas strode through the pristine hospital hallway, his mother hurrying behind him. Reaching the door of the private room Sam had managed to procure, Nicholas took a deep breath and walked in.

The first thing he saw was all the tubes sticking out of his father.

Dad, he uttered, feeling like his whole world had been shaken.

Jerry Arrington was looking towards the window when he heard the familiar voice and Nicholas took a step forward as his father turned his head to meet his gaze. He could read the pain and torment inside, along with the flare of surprise. N-Nick? What are you— His eyes swung towards his wife and Nicholas saw the disapproval in that blue gaze.

Don’t look at Mom like that. He blocked his father’s view. You were this sick and you never told me?

His father’s voice was weak and he narrowed his eyes. Well, you made it clear that you didn’t want to see us! You didn’t call us, didn’t visit. Even if I had died, it wouldn’t have affected you and your city life.

The words were like sharp blows and Nicholas staggered under each one, yet knowing each was well deserved. However, he didn’t bow under them and instead approached his father, who was looking at him with reproach. Under that emotion was hope and wariness.

That could not be less true. Nicholas walked over and sat down next to him. I have a feeling that saying I’m sorry would be pointless.

His father didn’t say anything, and Nicholas sighed. "I am sorry. I was running away from this place, not from you and Ma. I never wanted to run the ranch."

His father opened his mouth to say something but Nicholas cut him off. Let’s save that discussion for when you’re out of the hospital. I’m here now and I’ll take care of everything.

What about your fancy job back in New York? There was both trepidation and disdain in his father’s voice.

I’ve got people working for me. They’ll get in touch if they need me.

His father’s eyes widened before he snorted weakly, As long as you don’t forget your roots or where you came from. You’re still the same little brat I taught how to drive a tractor.

Nicholas smiled, knowing he had been partly forgiven or at least wouldn’t be kicked out at this very moment. He glanced towards his mother who was standing near the doorway silently, and he knew that earning her trust back would be harder. She had been the one who had doted on him the most, the one who had argued with his father to let him go off to Yale on a scholarship, the one who had constantly sent him care packages so that he wouldn’t get homesick.

And she was the one who had been the most heartbroken when he had chosen to walk away from them all.

Bitter regret ate at him over the pain he had caused her and he stood up. I’ll go track down your doctor.

His mother didn’t even look at him and instead walked over to her husband and started fussing over him in a quiet manner that was so far off from how she used to be that Nicholas felt his heart ache, knowing that part of it was his fault.

He closed the door on the small scene behind him and went to the nurses’ station to ask for Dr. Fernando. As he approached, he saw a redheaded woman arguing with one of the nurses, a small white-faced boy standing next to her. Her right arm was in a cast and her curly hair was messed up and he could see twigs and leaves sticking out of it.

He blinked at the sight.

What happened to her?

On approaching he heard her words. I’m telling you it’s not a bruise. It’s a fracture. I’m a nurse!

The nurse she was talking to was busy rolling her eyes and her voice was tinged with impatience. Look, Miss Cordroy. Dr. Lenox already took a look at him. You’re overreacting.

The man was on his phone while he was checking the patient. The woman waved her phone in the air. I have proof. I demand another checkup or I won’t leave. If something happens to little— She seemed to get stuck on the name of her small companion and after she shot him a look and he said through gritted teeth, Johnny, she continued. "Little Johnny, I’m going to take this right to the board of directors! Don’t think I won’t. I have a lot of influence with the board. My uncle Roland is on it. He won’t be pleased, let me tell you, Nurse Hannah."

Nurse Hannah’s face turned an ugly shade and she struggled between glaring at the woman, doubt on her face. The woman seemed to sense that she was on the verge of winning the argument and she started dialing some numbers on her phone. I guess I’ll just call—

No! the nurse spat out, looking torn. I’ll—I’ll arrange for another doctor. Please take a seat.

The redheaded woman’s frame visibly relaxed and she nodded and her boisterous tone was suddenly replaced by a sweeter one. Thank you. Come on, Joseph.

It’s Johnny, the boy by her side muttered, but he went along with her willingly and when she turned, Nicholas saw a pale face, filled with freckles, pretty pink lips, and the brightest green eyes he had ever seen. She didn’t look at him as she walked towards him.

Is your uncle really on the board? Johnny asked her curiously.

The woman’s lips pressed together in a grin and she pressed a finger to her lips. Shush. For the next hour he is. Go find a seat, Jimmy.

Johnny. The boy rolled his eyes.

Nicholas found himself amused at the woman’s antics and as she passed by him, their eyes met briefly, and he found himself freezing under her direct gaze. It was as if she could see right into him.

He stood still until she walked past him and realized he had been holding his breath.

Forcing himself to move, he walked over to the shaken-looking Nurse Hannah, and said politely, I’m looking for Dr. Fernando. I’m Nicholas Arrington. My father is a patient of his.

The nurse stared at him, looking stunned, and Nicholas repeated himself slowly, a hint of cold impatience on his face. Finally, the woman jerked to life. Yes, sir, Mr. Arrington.

I also want a history of the treatments my father has undergone since he was diagnosed.

Give me a few minutes.

Nicholas tucked his hands in his pockets as she started looking through the computer before he cast his eyes around the waiting area and found the woman sitting in one of the chairs. Out of sheer curiosity, he went and sat down in the seat opposite her. She didn’t seem to notice him as she tried to calm down Johnny, who looked to be in a lot of pain.

She was dressed in a light blue blouse and dark jeans and it was as he looked her over that Nicholas realized that aside from her mussed-up hair, she was sporting a few scrapes on her bare arms. Her blouse was also torn slightly.

The boy’s state was no better and concern rose in Nicholas.

Nurse Hannah soon brought him the files and told him that the doctor would be with him in half hour and he could wait in his father’s room. However, Nicholas found himself not moving. He gave the nurse a cursory nod and she left.

Fifteen minutes and Johnny’s complexion was looking worse for wear and the woman was beginning to look concerned. No doctor appeared and Nicholas cast a look in the direction of the nurses’