Christmas at Colts Creek

by Delores Fossen

  “That you were going to adopt a baby,” her mother said without hesitation.

  “Uh—” But that was as far as Janessa got before Sophia rolled right over her.

  “He said the baby, a little girl, will be born right around Christmas, and that you’ll be taking her to Last Ride because you’ll need to be there to fight Abe’s will.”

  She did more mental back steps. Either Sophia had seriously misunderstood whatever Kyle had said, or else he’d told a whopper.

  Janessa was going with door number two on this one.

  Good grief. Kyle had likely been trying to help get Sophia to Last Ride, but this was not the way to do it.

  “Did you think that I wouldn’t want to be part of my grandchild’s life?” Sophia asked.

  Janessa sighed. “Mom—” But again, Janessa’s part of the conversation was limited to that one word because her mother interrupted.

  “Make arrangements for a place for me to stay,” Sophia insisted. “I’ll be arriving late so don’t wait up, but I’ll be in Last Ride before midnight.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  BRODY RODE THORN, his Appaloosa gelding, along the back fence line while he checked for any breaks or needed repairs. It was a job he normally delegated to the newer, younger ranch hands, but he’d put himself on the schedule for it today so he could get away from his office.

  And from everybody else.

  His office was in the main house. Abe’s house. And while it had a separate entrance, Brody figured if he were there, he’d run into someone he would rather avoid. Which at this point was pretty much any and everybody.

  Thorn didn’t have the best temperament—hence the name—but he was the only company Brody wanted right now. Over the past eighteen hours or so, he’d already heard too much from too many people about Abe’s will, and he needed a break. Thorn might be snorting and flicking his tail over this mundane chore, but the crisp late autumn air was pleasant enough and the horse wouldn’t be able to go on and on about what might or might not happen to Colts Creek.

  Or to Margo, or all the hands and house staff who worked the ranch.

  Brody had silenced his phone before he’d gone to bed, and he hadn’t turned it back on when he got up and left for work. That would almost certainly piss off some people, including the ranch’s assistant manager, Clayton Erle, but Brody had left a message for Clayton to tell him where he’d be. If it was important enough, Clayton could ride out and speak to him in person. And if the in-person happened, it sure as hell better not be about Abe.

  Brody couldn’t see the sense of hashing and rehashing something that was in Janessa’s hands. If she challenged the will, then he was sure he’d hear about it from her or the lawyer, Curt Dayton. If she was already back in Dallas, then he’d hear about that, too.

  He kept riding fence, kept pushing away the thoughts of what if, why and all the other bullshit questions that kept popping into his head. Instead, he focused on the quarter horses he spotted in the pasture. Meditation soothed the soul for some, but the horses always did it for Brody.

  Abe and he had brought in some prize stock, and it had paid off. The horses were some of the most sought-after in the state. Brody had been part of that. Had loved it. Still did. And if he ended up losing his job here, he’d just start his own damn ranch. It wouldn’t be big, and it wouldn’t be the same as Colts Creek, but he wouldn’t give up raising horses.

  He cursed, though, when he spotted another horse, and its rider, coming toward him. Not one of the hands. But rather his mother. She didn’t care much for riding so that told him this was important enough for her to tolerate both.

  “You aren’t answering your phone,” she called out to him. She was bundled up in a thick wool coat, and her cheeks were pink from the brisk wind.

  Brody sighed. “Because I wanted to give Abe and his will a rest.”

  She shook her head, and when Brody got closer, he saw the tears shimmering in her eyes. Hell. “What’s wrong?”

  “This is all my fault,” she said, swiping at those tears with the back of her hand. “I’m the reason Abe did this to you.”

  Apparently, rest time from this subject was over. Brody took hold of the reins of the mare she was riding and got them started back toward his house. The cold wouldn’t bother him, but it would his mother.

  “No way is this your fault,” he insisted.

  “But it is,” she insisted right back.

  Since this was obviously going to turn into a discussion, one that would require him to convince his mom that she wasn’t responsible for anything Abe had done, Brody calculated how long it would take to get her back to his house. At least fifteen minutes, and he didn’t think he could hold her off that long.

  “Okay, I’ll bite. Why do you think you had anything to do with Abe leaving the ranch to his daughter?” Brody came out and asked.

  “He did it to get back at me, because he was still angry about what happened between us.”

  Brody had to give that some thought, and he still wasn’t sure he was anywhere in the ballpark of what was causing his mother to cry. “You mean when you broke up with Abe nearly thirty-five years ago?” That couldn’t be it. Could it?

  But Darcia certainly didn’t deny it. “Abe was so angry when I ended things with him. So hurt when I told him I was seeing Jimmy.”

  Jimmy Harrell. Brody’s father. But Jimmy had also been Abe’s best friend. More like brothers if the gossip Brody had heard was right. Brody had never actually been able to confirm the gossip because Jimmy left Last Ride when Brody was ten. Jimmy had done that after he lost the hardware store he’d inherited from his grandfather, and he didn’t visit that often. Abe and Darcia had refused to talk about it.

  Until now, that is.

  Apparently, his mother thought that long forbidden subject was now on the discussion table. Brody wasn’t sure he wanted to hear any other accounts of Abe acting like an ass.

  “Abe swore he would get back at me,” Darcia went on. “And I think he did that with this will. Because the fastest way to hurt me would be to hurt you.”

  Oh, he got it now, but Brody had no trouble poking holes in that theory. “I’ve been working for Abe for seventeen years. If he wanted to hurt me to get back at you, he wouldn’t have waited this long.”

  “But he could have,” she argued while more tears fell. “The longer he waited, the deeper the cut would be.”

  “Well, if that’s true, Abe certainly hid his revenge plan well. And you’d think if he wanted to get back at you, he would have taken some jabs at me over the years. He didn’t.”

  Brody mentally went back through his last conversation with Abe. There sure as hell hadn’t been any mention of him dying, his will, Janessa or any old bad blood between Darcia and him. It’d been one of those routine discussions about a couple of young hands who’d gotten into a fight at the Three Sheets to the Wind bar and were in jail. Brody had wanted to tell Abe so he wouldn’t hear it from someone else, but as usual Abe had told Brody to deal with it as he saw fit.

  “About two weeks ago, I was leaving the art studio after I’d finished teaching my pottery class, and Abe was waiting for me by my car,” Darcia went on. “He said he wanted to talk. I thought it was something about you, so I agreed. Reluctantly agreed,” she amended. “We sat at a table in the little park behind the studio, and he told me the reason he hired you when you were sixteen was because he hoped he could punish me by turning you against me and your father.”

  Brody reined in and stared at her. His mother wasn’t one to lie or exaggerate so he didn’t doubt Abe had said that. And did it. But Brody had never picked up on a vibe like that.

  “He never tried to turn me against either of you,” Brody pointed out.

  With a confirming nod, his mother got the mare moving and Brody followed. “Abe said he tested the waters,” Darcia explained, “and you made it c
lear that you wouldn’t get involved in what went on between him and me. Or have anything to do with the rift he had with your father.”

  Even though that’d been years ago, Brody did indeed recall that particular conversation. “Abe did ask me if you’d ever talked about him. I shut down the subject.” He paused, cursed. “So, why didn’t he fire me then and there if he realized he couldn’t turn me against my dad and you?”

  “I asked about that, and he said you did good work. Then he added that after a while, he knew he wanted you to run the ranch and that it didn’t matter that you were Jimmy’s son.”

  Brody had no trouble believing that was true, as well. Abe had been far more interested in his other businesses than the ranch. He certainly hadn’t wanted to get involved with the daily running of it.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this conversation before now?” Brody asked.

  Darcia sighed. “Because I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  It shouldn’t have bothered him after all these years that Abe had had such a twisted reason for hiring him. But it did. It bothered Brody a lot. So did the guilt his mom was clearly feeling.

  “Abe’s will wasn’t your fault,” Brody assured her.

  “Then why didn’t he leave the ranch to you? Or at least arrange it so it wouldn’t be sold? Why did he snatch everything away from you?”

  That was the million-dollar question, and it took Brody back to something that had been eating away at him. Maybe Abe had truly been the asshole that everyone had believed he was.

  They rode the horses through the back opening of the barn and climbed off. Brody was about to start removing the saddles, but he stopped when he spotted the car in front of his house. And the woman.

  Janessa.

  Wearing a red sweater and black jeans, she was by the huge oak in his front yard, and she was pacing, and limping, while on the phone.

  Brody certainly hadn’t expected her. Not at his house, not in Last Ride, either. One of the last texts that he’d actually read was from Margo, telling him that Janessa hadn’t come to the ranch. So Brody had figured she’d already driven back to Dallas.

  “Go ahead and talk to her,” his mother said. “I’ll deal with the horses.”

  Brody thanked her, then mumbled, “This shouldn’t take long,” before he made his way toward Janessa.

  Her head whipped up when she spotted him, and even though she still had the phone to her ear, she seemed to freeze. Not freeze in a cold winter kind of way, either. He saw the quick flash of heat in her eyes. Heat that she quickly tried to conceal by looking away.

  “I have to go, Kyle,” she said to the person on the phone. “I’ll call you later to work that out.”

  Kyle. Maybe a boyfriend? Probably a boyfriend, he mentally amended. After all, Janessa had a life, and that meant there was a high chance there was a significant other.

  “That’s a good look on you, Brody,” she said. “Hardworking cowboy. They make calendars with guys like you on them. You look like a September or October to me. For the August slot, you’d probably have to ditch the shirt, though.” She flashed a smile that faded as quickly as it’d come. “Sorry, I got distracted.”

  Welcome to the club. He always seemed to get distracted around Janessa, and it nearly caused him to blurt out a really stupid question. One that involved her swearing she was going to get a tat on her butt cheek with his name on it. That had been part of the post-sex conversation they’d had after he’d taken her virginity in the bed of his then-ratty truck.

  Brody regretted the virginity part. He hadn’t known she’d never been with another guy until the deed was done. But he’d never quite managed to regret the actual sex.

  He stopped under the tree, but he kept some distance between them. No need to get too close and cause his own flash of heated eyes. Plus, the closeness might bring out stupid questions about butt tats and why she’d left the way she had the night after giving herself to him.

  Shaking his head to clear it, he glanced down at her feet. No boot cast. Janessa was wearing black sneakers with sparkly purple hearts on them. A purple almost identical to the color of the bruise on her toe. He could see that bruise just fine because she’d cut out the end of the sneaker to expose it.

  “It’s too cold to wear flipflops or sandals, and these were the tamest shoe option they had at that store just up from the inn,” she explained.

  That didn’t surprise him. The store, Ink, Etc., was a tattoo parlor/costume shop and sold plenty of outlandish things.

  “It was either these or gold boots with little tiger heads dangling from the laces,” Janessa added. “I think I made the right choice. Driving wouldn’t be as easy with plastic tiger heads bopping against my legs.”

  Brody made a sound of agreement, ignoring her attempt to make things light. “You came to say goodbye?” he asked.

  He hadn’t meant for any bitterness to be in his voice, but it sure as hell was there. Stupid bitterness over something that’d happened the last time Janessa had left Last Ride. She hadn’t bothered to say goodbye to him then.

  “No. I tried to call and tell you, but...well, when you didn’t answer, I figured it best to come and tell you in person.” Janessa took a deep breath. “My mother’s here. I haven’t actually seen her yet, but she got in shortly before midnight.”

  She held up her hand as if to stop him from speaking, but Brody hadn’t even opened his mouth. That was in part because it was the last thing he’d expected Janessa to say, and he was stunned down to the soles of his cowboy boots.

  “My mother might not stay so don’t get your hopes up,” she quickly added. “But just getting her to come here is somewhat of a miracle. It means we have a chance of fulfilling the terms of Abe’s will.”

  Judging from the way Janessa nibbled at her bottom lip, she didn’t have a lot of faith in that chance. So Brody tamped down the emotional roller coaster inside him that had been on the verge of skyrocketing.

  “How’d you get your mom to come?” he asked.

  “A lie,” she readily admitted. “Not my lie,” she qualified. “But it’s a whopper. Anyway, when she learns the truth, she’ll probably turn around and go back to Dallas. Just coming here isn’t enough, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to get her to stay the entire three months.”

  Brody gave that some thought, and he didn’t like where those thoughts landed. Maybe Janessa had given her mother a sob story about him being destitute and out on the street if the ranch was sold.

  “Did the lie involve me?” Brody pressed.

  She blinked. “No.” She stared at him and repeated it as if trying to figure out why he’d even asked that. Janessa then waved off whatever else she’d been about to say. “Anyway, even if my mom leaves right away, I plan on staying around for a while to challenge the will.”

  That was slightly less than a shock since Janessa had asked him for the name of a lawyer.

  “Look, it’ll blast my budget to smithereens if I have to pay for a room at the inn for any extended period of time,” Janessa went on. “Do you have a problem if I stay at the ranch?”

  She probably hadn’t meant to rile him with that question. And Brody wasn’t even sure he had a right to be riled, but it hit a nerve. An old, obviously still sensitive nerve that had zilch to do with Abe’s will.

  “You’ve always been welcome to stay,” he said, hearing the tightness in his voice. “No one asked you to leave sixteen years ago. Besides, the ranch is yours now.”

  Apparently, that hit a nerve, too, because the new fire in her eyes wasn’t from lust. Nope. “No one asked me to leave?” she paraphrased. “You’re kidding, right?”

  Serious as a heart attack didn’t seem an appropriate response, but it was true. Apparently, though, Janessa didn’t agree. “I certainly didn’t ask you to head out less than twelve hours after you’d talked about inking my name on your ass cheek.�
�

  Okay, so he’d gone there after all. And he didn’t see what he’d expected to on Janessa’s face. No embarrassed apology or regret. Fuming I’m-pissed-off anger. That’s what he saw.

  “You,” she said, pointing a finger at him.

  But that was as far as she got. She stopped, limped into a pace. A short one. Janessa only took a few steps before she came right back.

  “You,” Janessa repeated, “told Abe that we’d had sex, and he said after he had a long talk with you that you’d agreed the right thing to do was for us to get married.”

  “Married?” That was the only word Brody managed before Janessa just rolled right over him.

  “Oh, Abe was going to let me finish college first,” she went on, “but after getting my degree, he would be expecting you to propose to me. If you changed your mind, he was going to toss you off the ranch and have charges filed against you since you were eighteen and I was seventeen.”

  It was as if she were a foreign language. WTF? Brody had never ever heard a word of this.

  “So, I yelled at Abe to mind his own business,” Janessa vented. “I walked out and left the ranch, then and there.”

  He pointed his finger, too, and like Janessa, it took him a couple of moments to respond. “First of all, I didn’t tell Abe that I’d had sex with you. Why the hell would I do something like that?”

  “I don’t know, but he said you did.” She stopped, stared at him. Cursed. If Abe’s tombstone had been nearby, she might have kicked it again. “He lied.” Her gaze flew back to Brody. “Did he ever demand you marry me or threaten to have you arrested?”

  He had to get the muscles unclenched in his jaw before he could speak. “No. And he couldn’t have used that threat because Texas has a Romeo and Juliet law. We were close enough to the same age for it to be legal.”

  She huffed. “And now you know why I never came back.” She stopped and squeezed her eyes shut a moment. “I’m sorry. Sorry for a lot of things for both you, me and anyone else Abe tried to manipulate and screw over.”

  He stayed quiet a moment. Had to. He had to rein in everything he was feeling, but he was failing big time. The grief was colliding with the fresh cuts to the bone.