A Randall Thanksgiving (14 page)

“No. But I’d like it to go to someone who would love it.”

“That would be easy to do. I guess you’ll be taking the furniture with you?”

“Not really. The new house is much larger, and we’ve decided to furnish it with new furniture. Except for the paintings and those lamps,” Caroline said, pointing to the living room. “Otherwise, we’d be glad to include the furniture if the new owner wanted it.”

Melissa debated her answer. She had to admit that not only did her cousin’s idea sound appealing, it seemed thoroughly workable. She longed to have the type of happy life Caroline had found in this house. But could she live here without Harry? Could she live in his town without having him beside her?

And could she live here and make her jewelry, as Caroline had suggested? Why hadn’t she realized that? That she could have a workshop here and sell to the American market?

Frequent plane trips would be warranted, to New York and San Francisco, Seattle and Dallas—all the major cities—but she wasn’t opposed to travel. It’d still give her a taste of the sophisticated lifestyle she’d enjoyed the past six years.

But the biggest plus was how close she’d be to her
family. She wouldn’t have to hear the stories of their lives; she’d share them.

She looked at her cousin, who regarded her expectantly.

“Caroline, I want it. I want to build a workshop across the street like you suggested. But could you not tell anyone, even Mike, for a while? Until I figure out what’s going on with Harry.”

“So you won’t want it if—”

“I want it no matter what, but I don’t want Harry to marry me unless he loves me, unless he can’t stand to let me go. If he knows I’m staying, he may just think I’m convenient.”

“I think you’re wrong about Harry, but I won’t tell Mike until I have to. I’m thrilled that you want to buy my house. I’ll keep the price low.”

“
I
won’t be buying it. Dad promised to buy it for me as a gift,” Melissa said with a giggle. “So price it however you planned. He can afford it!”

Caroline laughed with her. “Boy, he really does want you to stay, doesn’t he?”

It didn’t take Harry long to realize he wanted to talk to Melissa. But it was too late to casually drop in at Caroline’s.

He was too restless and fidgety to remain at his desk. Instead, he propped himself against a post out on the sidewalk in front of the office, watching the citizens of Rawhide pass by, greeting them all by name.

He’d been out there at least half an hour when John Randall walked up.

“Hi, John,” Harry said with a smile, hoping his friend was still talking to him.

“Hey, Harry. Have you seen Melissa?”

“No, I haven’t. Mike said she was having a visit at Caroline’s.”

“Oh. I just knew Mom told her to stop by and remind you about Sunday dinner. She said she’s really looking forward to visiting with you.”

His heart beat faster. “Melissa said that?”

“No,” John said with a laugh. “Mom said that.”

His pulse rate slowed back to normal. “Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint your mom. She’s a sweet lady.”

John nodded in agreement. “I’ll tell her you said that.” He pulled a cell phone out of his coat pocket. “Excuse me while I see where Melissa is.”

Harry stood there, pretending not to listen as John spoke into the device. “When are you coming…? Okay, I’ll meet you at the truck.”

He turned off the phone. “She’s on her way now.”

“Where are you parked?”

He nodded down the street. “By the general store. I’ll just wait here until she comes by.”

“Good. I’ll enjoy the company.”

“What are you doing out here, anyway? Don’t you know it’s cold?”

“It’s not so bad in the sun, and I get to visit with a lot of people I don’t see during the week.”

“That’s true. And you don’t work on Sunday.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, looking the other way to check if Melissa was coming.

“I’ll tell you when I see her,” John said with a grin. “That way you don’t have to throw your back out trying to spot her first.”

Harry’s cheeks flushed as he muttered, “Thanks.”

After a minute, John said, “You two didn’t have an argument, did you?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Melissa can be hard to understand. Mom says it’s because she and Dad are a lot alike.”

“I don’t think that’s our problem, I think it has something to do with Pierre,” Harry said dryly.

John stared at him. “I don’t think she’s interested in him.”

“Maybe not now, but she’s going back to France, where he’ll be.”

“Yeah. I don’t like the idea, but she still seems to be planning to do that.” John’s expression turned serious. “We’d all like for Melissa to come back home.” Then he said, “Uh-oh. Here she comes now—and look who’s with her.”

Harry fought the desire to turn and gaze at her. It seemed a long time since he’d seen her, though in reality it was just last night.

Before he could give into his urges, Mike stepped outside the office.

“Hey, John. You helping Harry pass the time?” he asked with a smile. Then, following the young man’s gaze, he noticed the Frenchman walking with Melissa. “What the heck…?”

Harry turned then and his eyes zeroed in on Melissa, who looked radiant in a navy peacoat with a bright fuchsia scarf and mittens. Unfortunately, she had another accessory. Pierre de Leon.

Harry could feel his blood boil.

He held on to his temper as the duo made their way toward the Sheriff’s Office.

Melissa smiled as she greeted him. “Hello, Harry,” she said, neglecting the other two men. “If you’re still
coming to dinner tomorrow after church, would you mind giving Pierre a ride? He’s not sure he can find his way by himself.”

Harry looked at Pierre and prayed his eyes weren’t shooting the daggers he wanted to thrust at the man. “I thought you were leaving tomorrow.”

“
Mais oui,
but my flight does not take off until seven in the evening.”

“Then I’d be glad to give you a ride,” Harry said through clenched teeth.

Melissa sent him a brilliant smile. “Good. I’ll wait for you in the truck, John. It’s rather cold out today.”

With that, she walked away.

The four men stood there, none of them knowing what to say, until Pierre broke the silence.

“I shall meet you at what time?” he asked innocently.

Either the man was that dumb, or he was rubbing Harry’s nose in it. Still, Harry had promised Melissa.

“Be here at twelve-fifteen, or else I’ll leave without you.” He’d drive him, but he didn’t have to be nice.

“Then I will bid you goodbye.” Pierre turned and strolled down the street before Harry realized the arrogant guy hadn’t even said thanks.

“I hear he has a date tonight,” Mike said.

“With Melissa?” Harry asked despondently.

“Nope. With a young woman he met last night at the steak house after Melissa and you left.”

“She doesn’t know, does she?”

John frowned. “Maybe I should tell her.”

“I don’t think you should,” Harry said. “You don’t want to break her heart, do you?”

“I want her to know what she’s getting into if she links up with that Pierre!” He said goodbye and followed his sister to his truck.

After John walked away, Mike asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I guess so. You know how it is when a woman messes with your mind.”

Mike laughed. “You got that right.”

J
OHN GOT INTO THE TRUCK
and slammed his door.

Melissa knew he was letting her know he wasn’t happy with her. “What?”

“I’m just telling you now, little sister. When Harry comes to Sunday dinner, you’d better mind your manners and not flirt outrageously with Pierre!”

“When have you ever seen me flirt outrageously with Pierre?”

“I haven’t, but I didn’t expect you to invite him to Sunday dinner either.”

“He invited himself, John. What was I to do?”

Her brother shook his head. “What’s going on with you and Harry anyway?”

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, right.” John threw the truck into gear and backed out of his parking spot. “You can explain it to Mom if you don’t mind your manners. She won’t accept that kind of answer.”

“I can’t explain, John. Please,” Melissa said, unable to hold back a few tears that slid down her cheeks.

He looked at her and then pulled to a stop at the side of the road. “I’m sorry, sis,” he said, and reached out to wipe them away. “Did Harry do something he shouldn’t? Do I need to go talk to him?”

Melissa smiled as she rubbed away more tears. “No, he didn’t do anything I didn’t ask him to do. But I don’t think he’s serious about—about us. And it h-hurts.”

“He told you that?”

“Yes, but not in so many words. I—I could just tell.”

After he pulled back onto the road, John said, “If it helps any, Harry’s still interested.”

“You talked about us?” Melissa said.

“Hell, yeah! We all want you to stay. We miss you, sis.”

Melissa buried her face in her hands.

“Did I mess up?”

Melissa, who was crying again, shook her head. “No, I just— I want a marriage like Mom and Dad have.”

“And you can’t have that with Harry?”

“I could. If he wanted to marry me no matter what. But if he married me because I’m a Randall and it’s convenient, it would be a disaster.”

“You think Harry is like that? I don’t.”

“You weren’t there, John.”

“No, I won’t argue that, but I think he’s in love with you.”

Melissa just closed her eyes. thinking how amazing it would be if that were true.

A
FTER DINNER THAT NIGHT
, John pulled his mother aside. “Uh, Mom, did Melissa tell you Pierre is coming for dinner tomorrow?”

“Along with Harry?” Camille asked. “Why?”

“She claims he invited himself.”

“I see.” Camille hesitated as she brought the coffee mug to her lips. “That won’t be a good combination—Pierre and Harry.”

John nodded. “She and Harry are having problems. And Mike told us that Pierre has a date tonight with a woman he met at the steak house last night. Should I tell Melissa that?”

“No, dear, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Melissa seems to think Harry is dating her because she’s convenient. I don’t read him that way at all.”

“No, and I think he could’ve found other women much more convenient than Melissa.” Camille seemed to be in deep thought, so John waited.

“I’ll see what I can figure out tomorrow, Son.”

“Okay, Mom.”

Camille went to her room to get ready for bed. Her husband followed her.

“What are we going to do about Melissa?” Griff asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. Why don’t you promise to give her all our money if she’ll come home?”

“What? That’s crazy!”

She gave him a knowing look. “I thought so.”

“Aw, Camille, the house won’t be that much, and John has the ranch. It seemed more than fair to me.”

“It is, dear. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get carried away,” she said with a smile. “Actually, I think she’s going to make some changes.”

Griff’s face lit up. “You think so?”

“Yes, but I don’t know if she’ll take you up on your offer. She may move to New York City. She hasn’t quite decided yet.”

“I could offer Harry—”

“No! Enough trying to manipulate your children or anyone else. You have to have faith that they’ll do the right thing. That’s why you turned the ranch over to John, isn’t it? Because you had faith he would do the right thing? I think you owe that to Melissa more than any amount of money.”

Griff hung his head. “Yeah, I guess I haven’t done as good a job with Melissa, but I don’t understand her work, and she’s been too far away to convince me of anything.”

“I know. And she may go away again. We just have to wait until she makes up her mind.”

H
ARRY PUT ON A DARK
green dress shirt and black slacks for Sunday dinner. He was nervous about going to visit Melissa’s family for a lot of reasons. The most important one was that Melissa didn’t want him there.

He guessed she’d made her decision. Otherwise, why would she have invited Pierre to come to dinner, too? In fact, Harry should offer to drive the Frenchman out there and then come back home to his apartment. That would make her happy.

Squaring his shoulders, he changed his mind. He’d been invited first. He was going to stay for dinner. If she didn’t want him there, she’d have to tell him. Face-to-face.

But he hoped she didn’t tell him that. He wanted to spend time with her, even surrounded by her family and Pierre. Damn, Harry was one sick puppy to accept that kind of torture.

With a sigh, he went downstairs to wait for the Frenchman.

Harry was still hoping that he and Melissa could—Could what? That he could convince her not to go back to France and her boyfriend? That wasn’t likely.

Unfortunately, Pierre showed up outside the Sheriff’s Office at exactly twelve-fifteen.

By the time they reached their ranch, Harry was fed up with the man and his attitude. When he got out of his truck, he saw John coming out to meet him. Uh-oh. Had they changed their mind and no longer wanted him at dinner?

John reached out to shake his hand. “Glad you made it.”

“So it’s still all right?”

“Absolutely! Mom even made a special dessert for you. And Pierre,” he added.

“She didn’t need to do that.”

“Hello, Pierre,” John said, offering his hand.

Pierre shook it briefly. “May we enter?” he asked.

“Yes, of course.”

John and Harry followed him to the house.

“I shouldn’t have come,” Harry muttered. “Melissa doesn’t want me here.”

“Oh, yeah? Then why did she cry when I tried to talk to her about you two?”

“She did?”

John nodded and held the door open.

Inside, they found Griff already sitting at the head of the table, glowering at Pierre, while the two ladies brought in platters of delicious-smelling food.

Griff stood up and shook Harry’s hand, then invited him to sit opposite Pierre, on his left.

After hanging up his hat, Harry greeted both Melissa and Camille before he sat down. “Something sure smells good.”

“Of course it does. My mother is one of the best cooks in the county,” Melissa said crisply.

Pierre smiled at Melissa. “And we will have wine?

Camille looked upset. “Oh, dear, I didn’t think to get you any wine, Pierre. I’m so sorry.”

Harry remembered the bottle Melissa had been drinking the night he’d stayed over after rounding up the herd, but she’d poured that out the next morning.

“Pierre will drink coffee, Mom,” Melissa said quickly.

“But,
ma chère,
I would rather—”

“No, Pierre!” After serving him coffee, she took the seat beside Harry, leaving her brother to sit beside Pierre.

Conversation was a bit forced at times during dinner,
as Melissa refused to talk with Pierre about her plans for her return to France.

Everyone else chatted determinedly and kept eating, as if hoping the meal would end quickly.

When Camille brought out the dessert, Harry couldn’t believe his eyes. “Is that Red’s famous chocolate cake?”

“Yes, it is. He gave us his secret recipe this year,” she announced with a smile.

“This is a secret?” Pierre asked looking with disdain at the cake. “In France, we are famous for our pastries.”

“Red’s chocolate cake is better,” Melissa snapped.

“
Mais non, chérie.
That cannot be true.”

Camille served everyone a piece of cake. When she got to Pierre, he shook his head. “Don’t you want some of my dessert?” she asked.

“
Non,
I prefer cheese and fruit.”

“Mom doesn’t have cheese and fruit, and it’s wrong of you to ask for something she hasn’t offered!” Melissa glared at her former fiancé.

“I am glad I’m returning to France. This is a barbaric country! There is no wine, no bottled water, and now no cheese and fruit for dessert! I do not like it here.”

“I’m glad you’re leaving, too, because you are rude and childish. I don’t know how I ever thought you would be good husband material!”

“We will discuss our plans when you return to France,
ma chère!
Not here in front of these…people!” Pierre said.