Cowboy Come Home (3 page)

A smile that made her soft blond hair, her blue eyes, her patrician features, even more enticing. And when those attractions were attached to a slender body with curves in all the right places, something he’d noted earlier, she could’ve been a movie star. Why didn’t she belong to one of the testosteronefilled men around the table?

Because they already had their own beauties.

So where did she come from?

“When did your mother die?” Red asked, drawing Griff’s attention back to the present.

“Last week.”

His terse response drew a gasp from Red.

With eyes staring into the distance, Red muttered, “All this time...”

Mildred reached out for her husband’s hand. He turned to her, a grateful smile on his face. “She was my first love, you know, sweetheart. We grew up together. But she had no time for me.”

Griff felt relief fill him. For a moment, he’d wondered if Red was his father. His greatest anger was directed toward that unknown man who’d taken his pleasure from Griff’s mother and then refused to be responsible for the result.

Brett seemed unaware of Griff’s reaction. His attention was on Red. “Is she the reason you didn’t mess with the ladies till Mildred came along?” He grinned. “I didn’t know you were hiding a broken heart all those years.”

“There’s lots you don’t know, boy,” Red growled.

Jake uttered one quiet word, and it underlined his position in the family. “Brett.”

Though Brett continued to grin, he stopped teasing Red.

Griff studied Red, trying to picture his mother as she’d been when Red knew her. She would’ve been better off with Red, who seemed a decent man, than with the one who’d betrayed her.

“Would you like more tea?” Camille asked, leaning toward him.

He drew in her scent, finding it disturbing. “No, thank you.”

His gaze followed her as she crossed the kitchen, unable to resist watching her.

Jake leaned toward him. “Camille is Megan’s step-sister. She’s not a Randall.”

Griff blinked several times, his gaze returning to the man beside him. When he realized Jake had noted his interest in Camille, he hastily backpedaled. “I’m not—I’ll be leaving as soon as possible.”

“Leaving for where?” Pete asked, the first time he’d spoken since Griff’s revelation.

“Chicago.”

“Is that where Margaret lived?” Red asked.

“Yes.”

Another silence filled the room, the only noise the scrape of silverware against the dishes.

“How the hell did you learn how to handle horses in Chicago?” Pete finally demanded, staring at him.

Griff didn’t answer at once. Then he looked Pete in the eye. “My mother taught me. She insisted I grow up around horses. We frequented a riding stable on the outskirts of town.”

“But you know more than how to ride. You calmed Rambo without any problem.”

“Margaret,” Red said succinctly.

“What?” Pete asked, his gaze turning to the older man.

“Margaret was a dab hand with the horses. Better’ n Gus.” Red rubbed his face, as if remembering was painful. “She could talk to them.”

Griff nodded.

“Well, the job’s still there, if you want it,” Pete said.

“Hell, Pete, he probably owns half the ranch,” Chad interjected, heat in his words.

For the first time, Griff heard the anger he’d expected. He didn’t want their ranch. But he wasn’t going to relieve them of that fear just yet. And fear was visible on several faces around the table.

But not on Jake’s.

“We’ll talk after dinner,” he reiterated. “Pass the potatoes, Chad.”

WHEN JAKE LED the way into an office near the kitchen, Griff followed without protest. It was time to clear everything up. The other three Randall brothers gathered around the desk as Jake sat down behind it, leaving a chair for Griffin.

Again Griffin noted Jake’s authority. None of the others spoke, waiting for their oldest brother to take the lead.

“Why don’t you tell us why you’re here, Griff?” he said calmly.

Griff sat up straighter. “My mother fought cancer the past year. Her dying request was to be buried on the ranch. I promised her.”

Jake nodded but said nothing.

They all sat in silence. Finally, Chad spoke. “That’s all you want?”

“Yes.”

Several of the men released pent-up breaths, but Griff didn’t bother to check to see who it was. “You don’t have a problem with my burying my mother here?” he asked Jake, wanting to be sure he’d understood the nod.

“Of course not. My father would have been pleased. He would’ve been more pleased to have Margaret come home before her death. He made some effort to find her but was unsuccessful.”

Griffin nodded, acknowledging what Jake said, relieved that his mother hadn’t been totally forgotten. Maybe her bitterness shouldn’t have been so complete.

“How do you know all this?” Chad asked. “I’d never heard of her before.”

Jake shrugged. “Dad talked about her sometimes when we were boys. And Red has said some things.” He shook his head. “Dad’s income was dependent on Granddad, and the old man didn’t want to look for Margaret. He was mad at her.”

Griff didn’t ask any questions. His mother had talked about her past frequently.

“Why?” Pete asked. “Why was Granddad mad at her?”

Jake shrugged, as if he didn’t know, but Griff wasn’t sure whether to believe he knew nothing or simply wanted to save Griff’s face.

“My mother was having an affair,” Griff said softly. “Her father found out about it and jumped her pretty hard. She was supposed to stop...and she didn’t. When she realized she was pregnant, she ran. The old man had promised to throw her out anyway.”

“That’s pretty hard,” Brett muttered, frowning.

“Yeah. She was seventeen, pregnant and on her own.”

Griff tried to keep the bitterness from his voice, but he knew he wasn’t successful.

“Hey, maybe Red is your—” Chad broke off, apology on his face.

“No. Her lover was married.” Griff ducked his head, then faced the others. “I know it’s no excuse, but she was young, headstrong.”

“Hell, man, we’re not going to sit in judgment on your mother,” Jake assured him. “Do you know your father’s name?”

“No. She never told me.” He stared at the bookshelves that lined one wall of the room. “She said he didn’t want her or their baby.”

It always amazed Griff that he could feel any pain about that rejection. The man wasn’t someone he would want for a father, a man who’d break his marriage vows and then deny responsibility. Not the kind of father any man would choose. But it still hurt. As it had hurt his mother her entire life.

“Are you planning to find out who he is?” Brett asked. “Is that part of why you came back?”

“No. Just to bury my mother.”

“We’ll start making arrangements tomorrow,” Jake assured him. “In the meantime, we want you to stay here with us.”

“No. I’ll find a room in Rawhide,” Griffin said. He’d driven through the small town on his way from the airport in Casper.

Pete chuckled. “You’d better take Jake up on his offer, Griff. That fleabag motel in Rawhide isn’t worth the bucks you’d have to pay.”

“Maybe not, but that doesn’t matter. And you seem to have a full house here,” Griff argued.

“Yeah, we do,” Jake agreed with a big grin. “I planned it that way. You’ll find it hard to believe, but four years ago, there weren’t any women or children on the ranch.”

Griff saw the pleasure on his cousin’s face. Then Griff frowned. ‘But Toby has to be seven or eight.”

“Yeah. He’s my step-son.” Pride filled Jake’s voice.

Griff decided Toby was a lucky little boy.

“Well, the four of you have certainly made up for short time.” He smiled as he stood and stuck out his hand to Jake. “Thank you for letting me keep my promise. I’ll call you tomorrow to—”

“Man, you’re not going anywhere,” Jake said even as he grasped Griff’s hand. “Red’s room is behind the kitchen, with its own bath. Since he married Mildred, they live in B.J.’s old house just past the second barn. You’ll be comfortable in his old room, and it’ll keep you out of the major traffic patterns in the house.”

Griff didn’t see any disagreement on any of the men’s faces. Curiosity and wariness filled him. He’d lived all his life alone, except for his mother. He’d had no other family. Suddenly, he had enough family to fill a big house. And they wanted him to stay.

Jake led the way from the room as if he assumed Griff had agreed, just as he had led the way to dinner.

Chad grinned at him. “Jake always gets his way.”

“I can see that. I’m not putting anyone out?”

“Naw,” Brett assured him. “We’re always having guests. Camille’s been here a couple of weeks already.”

Griff frowned. That young lady was a good reason for him not to stay at the Randalls’.

“Pretty, isn’t she?” Chad added. “Good thing she isn’t a Randall.”

“Why?” Griff snapped.

“’Cause it wouldn’t be right for you to look at your cousin the way you look at Camille,” Chad said, and walked out.

Griff wanted to protest, to say he hadn’t noticed Camille, but that would be a blatant lie.

Brett grinned and followed his brother.

Pete gestured for Griff to precede him. As he did so, Pete said softly, “Don’t worry. We’ve all been there. That’s why we have a houseful of babies.”

“I have no intention of—” Griff began.

“Nope. We didn’t, either,” Pete assured him, his grin as big as his brothers’.

CAMILLE STOOD under the trees, wrapped in a jacket and watching as they lowered the casket into the ground. Only a few words had been spoken, first by the Randalls’ minister, then by Griffin Randall.

Camille decided he was a private man. Though obviously moved by his mother’s death, he kept his remarks brief and impersonal. Just as he had since his arrival several days ago. She couldn’t keep from being aware of his presence, but it wasn’t because he called attention to himself.

As they turned away from the small plot where all the Randalls had been buried, Camille wondered what would happen now. She’d watched Griffin from a distance as his cousins showed him the ranch. He’d seemed at ease among them, though never laughing, or hardly even smiling.

While he’d talked with the Randall brothers, he’d avoided the women. Particularly her. Camille shook her head. It was silly to take his behavior personally. After all, his interest would be in his blood kin, known to him for the first time.

And when he chose any of the Randall wives over her for assistance, conversation or friendship, it was probably because they were connected to him by marriage.

Besides, she wasn’t interested in men right now. Maybe sometime in the future, though she wasn’t sure. Her fiancé’s betrayal had made her cautious.

The Randalls had been the perfect antidote for her bitterness and cynicism, in addition to giving her time to decide her future. But she wasn’t ready to risk her heart again. Not yet.

“What happens now?” she whispered to Megan.

“The people who came knew Margaret. Jake will invite them back to the house so they can talk to Griffin. I hope he’s prepared for that.” Megan studied the silent man standing among his cousins. “I feel so sorry for him.”

“Will he lay claim to any of the ranch?” Camille asked. The topic hadn’t been mentioned since Chad had brought it up that first night.

“Jake told Chad that Griff didn’t legally have any right to the ranch, because their grandfather left it all to Gus, Margaret’s brother. But Jake has talked to the others, and they all feel Griffin should receive something.”

“That would be fair, but wouldn’t it be awful to break up the ranch?” Camille had been impressed with the joint ownership the Randalls had.

“They’ll work out something. Come on, Chad is waving to us.” The two women hurried to the car they’d ridden in.

Back at the house, the number of people seemed more than it had been graveside. Probably because they were now enclosed. Red and Mildred had prepared a buffet for the guests, spread out on the long table.

Jake stayed by Griffin’s side, introducing neighbors as they approached. Most of them were Red’s age or older, though several were accompanied by younger people.

“Hello, dear, I don’t believe I’ve met you,” an elderly lady said, leaning toward Camille.

“I’m Camille Henderson, Megan’s step-sister.”

“Henderson? I didn’t remember that was Megan’s name. Would you two be kin to the Hendersons near Buffalo?”

Camille exchanged a grin with Megan but didn’t bother explaining the difference in her and Megan’s last names. “No, I’m afraid not. I’m from Colorado.”

“Oh. I don’t know any Hendersons in Colorado.” The woman’s gaze lit on Griffin.

“That boy sure is a Randall, isn’t he? Strange he would have the same last name, though. Didn’t he take his father’s name?”

Camille had no idea what to say. Fortunately, Megan spoke. “His mother never married.”

The old woman gasped, as if Megan had revealed a shocking fact. “You mean he’s illegitimate?”

Chad, having approached unnoticed, slid his arm around Megan and stared at their guest. “He’s a Randall, Mrs. Widdaker. That’s all we need to know.”

“I know, my boy, but still—Well, I suppose those wicked cities make it hard for a young woman. She should’ve stayed here. She wouldn’t have gotten into such trouble, if she had.”

Much to Camille’s surprise, Griffin stepped forward to speak to Chad and overheard the woman’s words.

“You’re wrong. My mother got pregnant while she lived here. In Chicago, she managed to find acceptance and make a living. Something she couldn’t have done here.”

The woman’s shocked face created a tense moment. Then she apologized and hurried away.

“Damn, Griff, I don’t think you should’ve told Mrs. Widdaker that little fact,” Chad protested. “She’s the worst gossip in the entire county.”

“It doesn’t matter. Unless it embarrasses you. You’ve all been most gracious, and I wouldn’t want to cause you any shame.”

Jake wandered up. “What’s wrong?”

Camille kept silent.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” Griff said stiffly.

“’Cause you’re looking like you did when you first arrived, as if you’re waiting for an attack. Did someone say something wrong?”