A Randall Thanksgiving (5 page)

The big club chair was as comfortable as she remembered. Facing the fireplace, it was her favorite place to sit. She would put her feet up and let the fire warm them, while gazing into the flames. Melissa had spent many a winter afternoon in this chair with a pad on her lap while she worked on her designs.

“You’re the picture of contentment.”

The male voice startled her. She jumped, nearly spilling her wine, and turned toward the sound.

There, sprawled out on the big sofa, was Harry Gowan. He was wrapped in her mother’s handmade floral quilt, his head sticking out one end, his feet the other.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“You invited me, remember?”

Yes, she did. She’d just figured John had put him up in one of the spare rooms after she’d gone to bed. She told Harry so.

“No need to go to so much trouble. The couch was fine.” He smiled. “At least until you woke me.”

“Sorry. I—I couldn’t sleep.”

“Worried about your mother?” he asked. As he sat up, the quilt fell to his lap, revealing his bare chest. In the glowing firelight it looked bronzed, each muscle rippling as he breathed in and out.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him. His brown hair
was sleep-tousled, his jaw shadowed by a hint of stubble. She wondered what he wore underneath that quilt; no clothing was visible.

“She’ll be fine. Caro’s a great doctor. There’s no need to worry.”

“She’s my cousin, Harry. I know what kind of doctor she is.”

“You
have
been away for a while. I’m not sure you know how well equipped the hospital is. Though it’s probably not what you’re used to.” He eyed the glass she was holding. “Are you drinking wine?”

“Do you have a problem with that?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Not my personal favorite.”

“Back in Paris everyone drinks it, even children.”

He gave her a crooked smile as he looked around the cozy room. “In case you haven’t noticed, Melissa, you’re not in Paris anymore.”

He hadn’t spoken truer words.

But in Paris she didn’t have a matchmaking father breathing down her neck, determined to marry her off to the local deputy. No matter how handsome he was.

She pulled the collar of her nightgown closed and stood up. “I’ve got to get some sleep. Good night, Mr. Gowan.”

Before he could reply, she strode out of the room, forgetting her robe until she got back to bed. Damned if she’d return for it.

There was something about Harry that made her react, like a spark to tinder. Given that incendiary quality, she’d best keep her distance.

She got into bed, once more tossing and turning in her quest for sleep. But she couldn’t relax. And she knew the reason why.

He was on the couch in the living room.

I
T WAS STILL DARK
when John woke Harry. He roused him from a deep sleep on the sofa.

“Sorry, buddy, but the storm has stopped and Melissa and I are going to try to make it to the hospital before they start the surgery. You can sleep longer if you want. Just leave whenever you like.”

Harry sat up and his eyes lit on the blue robe across the back of the chair nearest the kitchen. So he hadn’t dreamed it; Melissa had been here.

He hoped John didn’t see the robe and start asking questions.

“I’ll follow you into town, John. That way, if either of us has any trouble, we have help.”

“That’d be great. Hey, you want breakfast?”

Harry looked into the lighted kitchen but saw no sign of Melissa. “No, I’ll catch it at the café.”

He didn’t see her until they left the house. She was already in the truck waiting for John when the men came outside. She looked tense and apprehensive, and Harry knew she hadn’t slept a wink all night.

They started toward town, ahead of the snowplow. All told, it looked as if a foot and a half of snow had fallen overnight and about half of that remained on the roadway, having iced in the predawn freeze.

The twenty-minute drive took almost an hour. When they reached town, Harry followed them to the hospital. He figured he’d wait and see if everything was okay. After they began the surgery, he could take Melissa and John to the café and buy them breakfast.

They found Griff sitting in the waiting room alone. Melissa ran forward and hugged him. “Are we too late? Have they started already?”

“Yeah, about five minutes ago, but Camille was kind of loopy before that.”

“How long will the surgery take?” Harry asked.

“About three hours,” Griff said, automatically checking his watch.

“Then why don’t you come to the café with me, and I’ll buy you all breakfast? I owe you for the meal I had last night.”

“No, I can’t.” Griff tucked his hands in his pockets and began pacing the waiting room.

John and Harry looked at each other.

Melissa said, “I’ll stay here with Dad and you two go get breakfast.”

“No, I’ll stay,” John said. “I can talk to him about cows. That’ll settle his mind. If you talk to him about Paris, he may lose control completely.”

Melissa opened her mouth to protest, but Harry cut her off.

“Come on, Melissa. We’ll bring them back some breakfast,” he said, hoping she would accept his invitation.

“Okay.” She went over and hugged her dad again, whis
pering something to him that the other two couldn’t hear. Then she headed for the door. “Are you coming, Harry?”

“Right behind you, Melissa,” he said, and waved goodbye to John.

The café had just opened and wasn’t busy yet. Harry ordered eggs and bacon, with hot biscuits. Melissa ordered French toast.

“Did you order that just because it has ‘French’ in its name?” he asked with a grin.

“No. I ordered it because it was always my favorite when I was a little girl.” She stared across the empty café as if she were seeing into the past. It was the same look she’d worn last night by the fire, he noted, remembering the blue nightgown that matched her eyes. “I had a great childhood.”

“I guess you did. You have great parents.”

“Yes, I know. And don’t tell me I shouldn’t have gone away,” she declared. “I had to!”

“I’m sure they understand.”

“I don’t know.”

“I think that’s one of the toughest things about being a parent,” Harry said. “One day you’re protecting and nurturing your child, and the next, the kid insists he’s all grown up, and moves out. That must leave a terrible hole in the family.”

“You’re going to make me start crying, Harry, and I don’t want to do that here.”

“I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. I just never thought like a parent before, never thought about what it must be like
to have kids, until now.” Suddenly self-conscious, he looked down at the tabletop. He gave a nervous laugh. “They’d better bring our food real soon before I make a total fool of myself.”

Melissa gave a watery chuckle. “Perfect timing. Here comes our breakfast.”

The waitress delivered their breakfast with a friendly smile and then headed back into the kitchen. Harry took a drink of his coffee. “I was missing my caffeine. I should never talk in the morning before I have my coffee.”

“I’m the same way,” she said, having regained control of her emotions. “I should’ve made a pot before we left home.”

“As it was we didn’t get here in time. We’ll take some back to your father and brother.”

“I think they have coffee at the hospital.”

“Yeah, but it won’t be as good. I’ve got a thermos at the Sheriff’s Office. I’ll go get it after we eat, and have them fill it up.”

“That would be great, Harry.”

He looked at her plate. “You know, that French toast looks pretty good. I may have to try it one day.”

“Here, I’ll give you a bite.”

Harry leaned forward and let her put a forkful, covered with syrup, into his mouth. “Man, I had no idea what I’ve been missing. That’s like having dessert for breakfast!”

“No more than pancakes. It has egg on the bread, so it’s kind of healthy,” she assured him with a smile.

“I think if I listen to you, I’ll end up liking everything French.”
Including you.
He was grateful he didn’t voice that last part.

“Even the escargot?” she teased.

He shook his head and made a face. “Never. That’s why they use that fancy name. Nobody’d ever eat it if they knew they were snails.”

Laughing, Melissa sat back in her seat. “You know, Harry, I didn’t think I could possibly enjoy breakfast this morning, but you’re making it fun. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Especially since all I’m doing is talking to a beautiful woman.”

He was starting to regret his frank statement, but then Melissa smiled. “Everyone is right about you, Harry. You are sweet. Too bad I’m going back to Paris.”

Why did she think something could develop between them? There wasn’t a chance. He thought the world of Griff Randall, but the man had chosen the wrong bachelor to hitch up with his daughter. “Yeah, ’cause I sure fit in with the Randalls,” he said sarcastically.

“Why don’t you?”

He was about to go into all the reasons, the main two being his lack of family and funds. The Randalls were among the richest people in the state. How would he fit in on a deputy’s salary?

He quickly changed the subject. “We’d better place the orders for your dad and John.”

“Already?”

“Yeah, hurry up and eat. I’ll go order their food.”

He got up and left the table. Getting away from Melissa was essential for his well-being.

When he placed the order, he told the waitress he would go get a thermos for coffee to take to the hospital.

“Don’t bother. We’ve got one here we can loan you,” she replied. “It’s the least we can do after you cleaned up that fight yesterday.”

“I’ll take you up on that offer, but you don’t owe me anything. I was doing my job. Just holler when the order is ready.”

He went back to the table to finish his breakfast.

“Are they going to let us know when it’s ready?”

Melissa, he noticed, never touched her French toast again.

“Yeah. Have you finished?” he asked.

“I’m not as hungry as I thought,” she said, her eyes filled with worry.

“Melissa, you need to eat breakfast so you can help your mother later. She’ll need you to be strong for her.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” She picked up her fork. “Of course I can eat some more.”

Harry watched her hurry through her meal, amazed at the love she had for her mother. And her father and brother. Everyone in the family loved each other. How had she managed to stay away for six years?

It was a question he couldn’t ask.

They took the food back to the hospital and sat with Griff and John as they ate. They all had to urge Griff to
eat his breakfast, using Harry’s reasoning—that he had to be strong for Camille.

They were still drinking coffee when Jon and Caroline came to the door in their scrubs.

Harry figured it was a good thing Griff had set his coffee cup down on the lamp table before they appeared, because the rancher jumped up and crossed the room, unaware of anything but the outcome of the surgery.

“How is Camille?” he demanded.

“She’s fine, Uncle Griff,” Caroline said, smiling.

Jon added, “We didn’t see any sign of cancer. We’re going to go ahead and send tissue to the lab to be sure, but we think the prognosis is excellent.”

Harry and John rushed to Griff’s sides to shore him up as relief ran through him. “Thank God, thank God,” the older man muttered. “Thanks to both of you.”

Melissa, who had joined them, looked at Caroline. “When can we see her?”

“She’s still in recovery. It will be a little while yet before she comes to. A nurse will come out and get you, one at a time, to go see her. Then we’ll move her to her room.”

John asked, “How long will she have to stay?”

“Just a couple of days. As long as there is someone at home to keep an eye on her….” Jon said, looking at Melissa.

“Yes, I’ll be there.”

“Good. Well, we’re going to get cleaned up and check on her again before we go home to our families.”

They all thanked the doctors again and sat back down. Griff buried his face in his hands.

“Are you all right, Dad?” Melissa asked.

“Yeah. I’m just so relieved. I couldn’t face losing Camille.”

“Neither could we,” John said.

“No,” Melissa said. “I’ve missed six years of her life. I’d never forgive myself if— But now she’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of that.”

“Does that mean you’re planning on staying?” Griff asked.

“No, Dad, but I’ll come back more often.”

He abruptly got up and began pacing back and forth again.

John glared at his sister.

Melissa turned away, tears in her eyes.

Harry wanted to reach out to her, to help her, but he actually agreed with Griff and John. Couldn’t she see how important it was to all of them that she come home?

Not that it was any of his business. Of course not. She might be the most kissable woman he’d ever met, but he knew better than to lose his heart to someone who
didn’t want to live in Rawhide. This was his home and he wasn’t leaving.

John stood as his father moved past. “You might as well sit down, Dad. You’ve got to think of Mom. She’s going to need you to be strong for her.”

Griff looked at him as if he hadn’t heard his words.

Melissa added her plea. “Mom will be leaning on you, Dad.”

“And what about you?” Griff roared. “She’ll need you, too!”

“And I’m going to be there for her, Dad. You know I will.” Melissa sat back down. “I’ll take care of her.”

“And then you’ll leave again!”

“Dad,” John interrupted. “Now’s not the time to fight this battle.”

“You’re right,” Griff said with a sigh as he sank into his chair. “But we will fight it, Melissa. I’ve been too tolerant of your staying in France.”

“I’m an adult, Dad, not a child,” Melissa said indignantly.

Harry stood. “I think it’s time you and I go find some lunch for everyone, Melissa. You all need to eat to keep up your strength. Come on.”

She resisted momentarily, then picked up her coat and started to join Harry. Suddenly she stopped. “Dad, I don’t have any money to buy lunch. Harry paid for breakfast and—”

“Sorry, Harry, I didn’t think,” Griff immediately said. He pulled out his billfold and offered a fifty dollar bill.

“No, Griff, it’s all right. I’ll—”

“I insist you take this. You’ve taken care of all of us this morning and you’re not even family. The least I can do is pay for lunch.”

Melissa reached out and took the money. “I’ll bring you back your change, Dad.”

Harry grabbed Melissa’s arm and dragged her to the door. “Put on your coat.”

“Yes, boss, I will.” She shrugged into the warm garment. He’d already put his on. As soon as she was wrapped up, she followed him out into the snowy weather.

“Isn’t it a little early for lunch?” Melissa asked, suddenly realizing it was only ten o’clock.

“Yeah, but you weren’t helping the situation in there. I thought you needed an exit. We can walk around town, get you some fresh air and exercise. I don’t think you get that much in France.”

“Oh, really? You think you know so much about life in France? For your information we walk everywhere. People usually don’t own cars in Paris. They have good public transportation and walk a lot!”

“And you think life there is that much better than life here in Wyoming?”

“Yes! If you want to eat out, you have a million different places to go. Here you have only one or two.”

“Don’t you believe in home cooking? Do you eat out all the time?”

“It’s convenient. I work hard all day long. I don’t want to work hard at dinnertime, too.”

“You work regular hours?” he asked in surprise.

“No. I work a lot longer than most people. I kind of work the hours a rancher does. Daylight hours.”

“You don’t work with lighting?”

“Yes, I do, but I don’t prefer it. My place was built by an artist and allows in a lot of natural light.”

“So you’re definitely going back?”

She didn’t look at him, but said, “Yes, I am.”

“Damn. Then I guess I’d better kiss you goodbye again.” Pulling her into the shadows of a doorway, he wrapped his arms around her and bent to kiss those lips that were driving him crazy.

She didn’t resist. In fact, she slipped her arms around his neck and willingly participated in the kiss. Which made it all the more addictive for Harry.

How long they would’ve continued, he didn’t know. But they were interrupted by one of his fellow deputies.

“Hey, you two should find a warmer— Oh, Harry! Uh, I didn’t realize— Maybe you should go indoors.”

“Yeah, Wayne, thanks.” His face red, Harry took Melissa by the arm and started walking again. As they went, he bent down to say, “You’d better leave soon, or I’m going to be fired for assaulting you on the street!”

“It wasn’t an assault!” Melissa retorted indignantly. “It was a goodbye kiss. That’s different.”

“Yeah, except that you’re not leaving today.”

“He didn’t know that.”

“If he didn’t, he will tomorrow,” Harry muttered.

They walked in silence after that, except for the greetings Harry exchanged with townspeople who passed.

Finally, she asked, “Do you know everyone in town?”

“I reckon. Why?”

“I don’t know a lot of them. Those I do know don’t even recognize me. I feel like a stranger, and I was born here!”

“That’s what happens when you leave for another continent and don’t come home.”

“I think it’s because I cut my hair and spiked it.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Because it’s all the rage in Paris.”

“Well, it’s not in Rawhide,” he drawled, still moving.

“How long are we going to walk?”

“I don’t know. We’ve got awhile before it’s really lunchtime. I figure your dad will get some rest if he’s not fighting with you. Your mom will wake up and he’ll go in and see her. He’ll be a lot calmer when we get back.”

“But I want to see Mom, too.”

“She’s not going anywhere, honey. But your dad will go in first, even if you’re there.”

“I know. I’m just worried about her,” Melissa said, lowering her head.

Harry put his arm around her, and she leaned into him, drawing on his strength.

“Maybe you’ll even get to feed her her lunch when we get back.”

“Do you think they’ll let her eat lunch?”

“Why not, if she’s awake and feeling good? And if you feed her it’ll free up a nurse to do other things.”

“Then let’s go get our lunches so I’ll be finished and can feed her.”

“We’re getting there,” he assured her. They’d walked all the way to the end of town. He turned her around and they started back to the center where the café was located.

“What should we get them? Is Thursday still enchilada day?”

“Of course. Things don’t change around here that much. Since it’s Sunday, we can get hamburgers or maybe some pot roast.”

“So tell me what there is to see and do in Paris,” Harry asked, surprising Melissa.

“Do you think you’re going to visit someday?”

“You never know. When you were living in Rawhide, did you expect to go to France?”

“No, not until I started taking French in college.”

“So tell me about Paris.”

“There’s a million things to see and do. The museums are incredible. Not just the Louvre, where the
Mona Lisa
hangs. The Centre Pompidou features modern art. The building itself is a work of art. And there’s an impressionist museum across the Seine, on the Left Bank.”

“Isn’t there anything other than museums?”

“Of course. There’s the Père Lachaise burial ground, where Jim Morrison is buried, and—”

“You go visit a cemetery? Isn’t that a little bizarre?”

“No, some famous people are buried there. And there
are lots of street performers to see, and outdoor cafés where you can sit and watch the people go by. The river and its bridges are wonderful, too.”

“You got me there. We don’t have a river in the middle of Rawhide.”

“And the churches are spectacular. Notre Dame, of course, but there are others. And then there’s the Eiffel Tower.”

“Have you been up it?”

She nodded. “Everyone goes. It gives you the best view of the city. That and over in Montmartre you can ride a cable car to the top of the hill, where the Sacre Coeur Cathedral looks down on the city.”

“Okay, you’ve convinced me that Paris is an exciting place to visit. But don’t you get tired of it after a while?” Harry asked.

“Do you get tired of living in Rawhide?” she asked, taking him by surprise.

“Of course not. It’s always changing.” He sat back and stared at her. “Okay, you’ve made your point.”

“It’s strange, isn’t it? I was born here and went away. You were born somewhere else and came here.”

“Are you saying you’ll never move back here?”

“I don’t know about the future. Neither do you. Who can tell what will happen?”

“I’m pretty sure I won’t be moving to Paris. After all, I don’t think they have a big need for deputy sheriffs.”

“Is that all you’re trained to do?”

“’Fraid so. I majored in law enforcement back in
Colorado. My minor was business, but I don’t think I have much talent in that area.”

“You seem better suited to ranching than anything else.”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t know much about that, either. John knows tons more than me. But I can ride a horse and chase a few cows, so I could probably work as a cowhand. I like being a deputy sheriff here, however.”

“But you can’t get promoted to sheriff. Mike is young and he’s not going anywhere.”

“I know,” Harry said. “I wouldn’t want him to leave. He’s good for Rawhide.”

“Well, Caro certainly doesn’t want him to go move away. If he left, she’d go with him and the whole town would protest.”

Harry laughed.

“It doesn’t bother you that you can’t be promoted?” Melissa pressed.

“No. Mike lets all of us take responsibility. We’re happy being deputy sheriffs.”

But he could tell Melissa didn’t really understand his position. She was a go-getter, career minded, with high ambition. An ambition that had taken her halfway around the world.

When the takeout order was ready, Harry grabbed the sacks and, after Melissa paid the bill, walked her to the hospital.

He held the door open and after a thank-you, goodbye
and a smile, Melissa rushed through it, eager to find out how her mother was doing.

Despite the smile, Harry felt all knotted up. Over breakfast they’d laughed easily, and he was beginning to think they’d made a connection—beyond the physical one that had been there since the night in the bar. Until she brought up their innate differences.

He left her at the hospital and headed over to the Sheriff’s Office to work out. That was exactly what he needed to blow off his mood.

“What are you doing here, Harry?” a voice called out as he walked into the Sheriff’s Office. “You don’t work on Sundays.”

“Hi, Wayne. I thought I’d catch up on some things today.” Without any small talk, he headed for the workout room.

“Uh, before you go, Harry, I need to tell you something.”

“Look, if you’re referring to what happened earlier, it’s no big deal.”

“No, that wasn’t it. I wouldn’t have said anything if I’d known that was you, but I hadn’t heard you’d found a new lady.”

Harry squared his shoulders. “What did you need to tell me?”

“Uh, I turned in my resignation earlier this morning.”

“You
what?
Why would you do that, Wayne? I thought you were happy here.”

“I am! I mean, I was. But my wife’s mother died and she says we need to go to Cody to help out her dad.”

“And you’re willing to do that?”

With a rueful grin, Wayne said, “Yeah. She has to come first, you know? Mike’s promised to call the sheriff in Cody and see if he’ll consider me for the first opening they have.”

“I bet they will. Mike’s made a good reputation for himself and our department since he’s been here.” Harry crossed over to the desk where Wayne was sitting and offered his hand. “I’ll miss you, Wayne. It’s been good working with you.”

“You’ve taught me a lot, Harry. It’s not just Mike. You’ve been a real help. I’ll miss everyone here. I feel like I’m letting down the team.”

“No, you’re right, Wayne. The wife has to come first.” After he said that, Harry moved toward the workout facility, eager to start feeling those endorphins.

“You don’t have to work today, Harry. Consider it my farewell gift.”

“Naw, I’ll work. You might need some extra time helping your wife pack up.” He closed the door behind him before Wayne could argue. Harry figured he needed the discipline that the job brought to him. It would help keep thoughts of Melissa at bay.

If anything could.